Melancholy: Summer Memory
by Rubedo the Crystal Blood
Summary: The First Episode in a series based off of Just Barely by Cal Reflector. When Ichigo poses a certain question to his childhood friend Tatsuki Arisawa, the results promise to affect them for the rest of their lives.
1. Prologue: Hazy Memory

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

Far off in the distance came the sound of silence. She found herself staring out from the open window into the darkened sky. After several moments of mute thinking, she turned to a large textbook before her. Scattered in a semi-circular array, clad in red pen marks and dirty eraser smudges, files and forms glared menacingly at her in their stationary position. She eyed them with malice, wishing she could take a lighter to each and every corner. The scowl on her face seemed to catch the attention of her study partner, Ichigo, who looked up at her from across the kotatsu, 

"...something wrong?"

The words went right through her head, as if she had suddenly become transparent. She groaned to a certain nobody-in-particular and slumped forward into the pages. She was tired and depressed. Out of frustration she dug her thumbnails into each other. Of all the things she could have done with her life, she had to have applied for the AP Chemistry class they'd offered one week ago. With the summer coming close, both she and Ichigo were pulling all-nighters to make sure they knew everything they had to for the test.

For that matter, Ichigo had been the one to apply first. Questions swam about her head. Why had Ichigo applied in the first place? Why had she applied after him? Even now she didn't really know the answer herself. The image of his face seemed to have burned itself into her eyes. When she focused on it, she felt like she knew the answer why. Of course, when she returned to reality, she really couldn't understand it herself. She felt like she knew the answer, but was seldom ever able to comprehend it. And yet... that pounding. Right now it was as if she could feel a blade in her—

"Tatsuki!"

At the sound of her name she looked up, snorting sleepily. Ichigo Kurosaki leaned forward and cupped a hand around her forehead, "You feeling okay?" When she rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock, Ichigo went back to his notes.

11:48

It was nearing midnight. She let out a cry of angst and thudded her head back down onto the table. "Let it be over... let's just take the test and fail...!" When Ichigo failed to respond she grunted, "Hey... Ichigo..." He sighed and scribbled something into a book, "It'll be over soon. Once we pass, we'll celebrate with barbecue."

A sleepy grin broke out across her face. The thought of meat sizzling over a searing flame made her mouth water. She longed to have a cold drink. They could play party games and just relax themselves. With this in mind, she stole a hopeful glance at her compatriot,

"Your treat?"

He chuckled and turned to the next page, "Assuming you beat class average."

The scowl returned again to her face. Tatsuki sighed into her handwriting,

"Stingy!"

"That _was_ the deal..."

After several minutes, periodic scrawling and strangling silence got the better of her. She groaned through a particularly long sentence, pausing to afford the luxury of whining while she let her wrist rest. She felt sore all over. Ichigo seemed not to notice. Out of boredom she glanced at the clock again, hoping that at least an hour had gone by.

11:54

He looked over her shoulder and sighed, "Staring at the clock won't make it go any faster. The more you study the more worth the time you'll be wasting." As if nothing had happened, he nonchalantly resumed his studies. She grinned a little to herself. He was rather serious about the whole ordeal.

They were supposed to study until morning. They had been pulling midnight study sessions for the entire week. Tonight was the final night they would be together this late. After that they would delve into a pattern of sleeping and studying alone, recuperating while pounding the information into their heads.

She remembered how eager Ichigo had been to organize their study plans. Or... Rather, he seemed to show an unusual interest in her own interests. She'd noticed his eyes light up when she'd told him about her application. Of course, she had had her own personal motivations for applying to the class. She needed the credit, for one thing. It would also look good on her college applications. She had ambitions to reach top universities.

She shook her head mentally and laughed at herself. That wasn't the reason... She was coming up with excuses again. As an imperceptible smile spread along her face, she gathered herself up and again raised a book to eye level.

"Hey, Tatsuki..."

The surprising masculinity of his voice startled her. She peered towards him from the top of her book, "Mm...?" He hesitated for a moment, and after about half a minute, asked,

"You're going for Tokyo University... right...?"

As her worries returned to her, she felt a migraine creep into her head. "Yes, that was the plan..." she sounded agitated. Not at Ichigo, but at herself, for setting such a high expectation.

"Do you want to get married after we graduate from high school?"

The suddenness of the question cut off her train of thought, though it failed to register. When it did, she almost dropped her book and stood up halfway. Her eyes met with a pair of serious, unexpectedly mature gaze.

He had removed his reading glasses, the lenses still visible from his breast pocket. Her mind was blank for the longest time. She couldn't even begin to fathom for just how long Ichigo had stared at her. She scrutinized his expression, hoping for the slightest hint of a laugh. When she failed to find one, she started spurting out nonsense in her mind.

Something hit her. She giggled. She laughed. Tatsuki let out a sigh of relief, gasping for air by which she had starved herself of. She'd held her breath for so long she actually started to turn blue. When she noticed his quizzical expression she tossed her planner at him. It landed squarely in his face and fell into his lap. Circled on it was a date.

"It's April Fool's Day... Geez... You scared the hell out of me. Man, you almost had me. Good one, Ichigo..."

She continued laughing, half-hoping he would laugh with her. It faded slowly as he closed his books and sealed his binders. As he collected his things, she though she saw the ghost of a melancholy smile,

"Well, who knows...?"

As he turned to leave, he glanced up at the clock. She could have sworn he'd frowned as he'd turned around. "Anyway," he finished, "I should probably be going. Get some rest, Tatsu..."

The door creaked open, and slammed shut. She turned around at looked at the hands. The short hand rested just millimeters away from the top, while the long hand pointed squarely at one... Her cheeks became hot with crimson.

12:01


	2. Segment I: Just Slightly Bitter

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

11:49

Three...

Two...

One...

The monotone ding that echoed through the halls and in all the classrooms clung stubbornly to the walls. They seemed to reverberate in minute increments. From the front, the building looked to be completely quiet. The seconds dragged on, until one minute became two. Then the ground seemed to shake. Without warning, the doors were blown back with the force of a truck. Students poured forth from every single exit. Enthused screams and shouts filled the air.

Inside, the silhouettes of flustered teachers, parents, and other bystanders, slowly resumed their travels. Unperturbed, a young man with orange hair crossed the hall and walked up the stairs, his satchel slung lazily over his back by his hand.

* * *

Tatsuki Arisawa sat before her desk, quietly packing her things away. The science instructor, Shizuna-sensei, was leaning back in her chair, reveling in the freedom of summer vacation. The well-endowed woman noted Tatsuki's presence, looking at the clock. It was unusual of the girl to stay behind after class, particularly since it _was_ summer vacation. After several moments she grinned, "Nice to finally be free isn't it?" Silence, broken only by the sound of Tatsuki's bag being zipped shut.

She mumbled something of an agreement and turned to the door. Well... _that_ part of her hadn't changed much. The instructor spotted a document on her desk. Empathizing somewhat with Tatsuki, she called her over as the student was just placing a hand on the doorknob. When Tatsuki was staring her down with a confused expression, she waved a folder labeled "AP Chemistry" in her face,

"Normally I'm not supposed to do this, but would you like to know the results of your AP application?"

She mulled it over for a period much longer than normally expected. In the awkward silence that ensued, the instructor perused through the papers and names. Finally, she located Tatsuki's and chimed, "I've got it right here...!"

With conviction, she nodded her head, extending her hand as if to ask for the file.

* * *

Ichigo Kurosaki stood before the door to classroom 4-C. He was there to receive the results of an exam, which he had requested he receive the week prior. If there was any indication to his nervousness, his unwillingness was perhaps the only visible sign. The AP entrance exams had been hectic. On multiple occasions his mind had blanked out on a question.

In the end, he'd even ended up finishing the last half of the final section in the span of three minutes. Each section was supposed to take fifteen minutes. There was a soft thud on the other end of the door. Ichigo looked up. The old instinct inside him began to tingle. Without hesitation he threw the door open, fists ready for a fight.

"Oh! Ichigo! What perfect timing!"

Primary science instructor Shizuna Osagara clapped her hands together with a grin,

"You're here to receive your exam results, yes? Arisawa here has also received hers."

At Tatsuki's name, Ichigo stopped. A raven-haired girl, Tatsuki Arisawa, stood in utter shock as she looked up and down a piece of paper. When she turned around and saw him, she seemed to lose all self-restraint. Beaming, she ran up to Ichigo and waved the paper around. "I passed!" she cried, "I really passed!" Even though he remained silent, she continued to celebrate. He noticed her bag lying on the floor, slightly deformed from a probably impact.

She'd dropped her bag straight down when she'd seen the results...

The instructor tapped on a form dangling over the corner of her desk. He continued to watch Tatsuki, until he had finally had enough of looking at her. There was a strange, though recognizable pain in his chest.

Taking the paper in hand, he hastily folded it and tucked it into his bag. Bowing, he walked past Tatsuki, who finally grabbed him by the arm. "Hey! C'mon now!" she had just noticed his lack of interest. He exhaled suddenly, as if her touch had surprised him. She stared for a long time, before finally speaking,

"You were the one who tutored me. Should you, of all people, be celebrating?"

Ichigo groaned, as if he loathed being where he was. The science instructor stood up, as if about to do something, but stopped, unsure of herself. When he pulled his elbow from her grasp, she did nothing to maintain to hold. Managing the best fake smile he could, he threw Tatsuki a thumbs up, before hurrying out the door. With a sort of desperation, he quickly made his way down the hall, vanishing around the corner.

Tatsuki gaped, "Ah... hey!" She darted to her bag and threw the straps over her shoulders while she dashed after the runaway boy. "Ichigo!" she flared, "Get back here you little—"

* * *

From the bottom of the window, Ichigo swung loosely, his hands tightly gripped around the edge of the building. He waited for Tatsuki's footsteps to echo below him, before pulling himself back up and through the window. He waited for the girl to burst through the doors, watching her as she looked left and right for him. In frustration, she growled angrily to herself.

He felt the urge to say something aloud. Something deep inside him hoped that if he said what he was holding inside, the person he intended them for would hear it. Of course, he said nothing. He didn't even fill in the blanks he made in his thoughts. But he knew what when in those ambiguous slots. He would have to get home soon. Ichigo glanced at the clock.

12:01


	3. Segment II: Burn

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

10:30

As droplets of water ran down along her bare skin, she felt her head get fuzzy. The shower head hissed forebodingly. Maybe the steam was getting to her. She had hastily turned the temperature to high, and neglected to bring it back down when it had reached the appropriate warmth. Somehow, the unbearable heat was soothing. It felt familiar... nostalgic.

No. This wasn't nostalgia. She wished she could feel this way. Heat singing her skin from both sides, her thoughts unclear, and her mind out of her own control.

Or... maybe it _was_ nostalgia. She was sure she'd experienced this feeling before. But here, under the hot water, it wasn't quite the same. Yes... someone had been with her. A man... no. A boy... Someone she'd known a long time ago. Who was it...? She felt like she knew. There was a name forming on the tip of her tongue.

She hugged herself tightly, pain overtaking her chest. She wanted to kneel down and just let the water rush over her, melting her into nothingness. _Well, who knows...?_ She looked up. A voice inside of her head. She pulled her head down and covered her ears, "Shut up..." She tried to block out the voice._ ...something wrong_? "Shut up...!" she cried. She was going insane for no reason at all. The pain in her chest was growing. Still, the voice _persisted, It'll be over soon._ She shuddered.

"This is..." she muttered, "I know this feeling..." She looked up, relaxing her fists with gradual motions. She felt compelled to say the word that was fast spilling from her tongue, "I... I—"

"Tatsuki?" the bathroom door opened.

Inoue Orihime coughed slightly with all the steam, "Tatsuki! Isn't it hot?" Tatsuki looked up, the self-induced spell broken. She slammed the water valve in, cutting off the water. A sudden gust of lukewarm air sharply contrasted with her mildly burned body. She shivered.

Inoue fanned the door in and out, just enough so she could find her way to the shower door. When she opened it she gasped, "Tatsuki! Your back!" Tatsuki blinked. Her upper shoulder and back were visibly damaged from the exposure to the hot water. As she turned to examine it she felt soft tingling in her skin. It wasn't comfortable. Without another word, Inoue pulled Tatsuki into her bedroom and began to dry her off.

Once she was dry, her friend pulled out a first-aid kit from her backpack, rubbing a special ointment into her skin.

As Tatsuki sat there, naked in her own room, she tried to go back to the place she had been to. She remembered hearing something... a voice of some sort. Someone she knew. She'd also known the name. She was sure she was about to say it when she'd been interrupted.

For a split second she almost disdained Inoue for pulling her from her dream. Just as quickly, she retracted the hostile feelings. It was strange. Whatever this disturbance what, it seemed to be affecting her greatly. It was fortunate that Inoue had heard her strange mutterings from the kitchen. If she passed out there, she could have slipped and broken her neck, even drowned...

For Inoue, who now returned to the kitchen to finish cooking their meal, Tatsuki could see there were a lot of questions in her eyes. Even when she returned, they were there, waiting to come out. But for some reason she said nothing. As Orihime bit into her unusual plate, she refrained from saying a word. Tatsuki quietly slipped into her pajamas for the evening. The silence was overbearing. Tatsuki nervously tried to eat what was on her plate. She commented on Inoue's strange and potentially unhealthy habits, as she always did when it was Inoue who served the food. "Mm..." came the meek reply. No conversation there...

She sighed. Even if Orihime interrogated her, she herself was unsure as to how to explain herself. For the rest of the evening they would eat in silence, and then go to bed. _What a way to spend the first night of summer_, she thought to herself. Tatsuki rolled over in her futon. She looked up at the clock.

11:50

She sat up.

It was too hard to sleep. Her back was tingling from the shower burns. Her stomach was unsettled from dinner. She could feel her head throbbing from exhaustion. There was no way she could just fall asleep. She felt like her pajamas were too tight on her limbs. She was suffocating. Suffocating under a veil of self-imposed angst.

At the same time, she felt somewhat excited. A strange presence overtook her. She could vaguely recall her test results. Out of all the students, she, Tatsuki, had placed among the fifteenth percentile for the AP Chemistry application exams. Of course, when she'd shown it to Ichigo, he'd run away. It was strange. She never even saw him running down the street in front of the school. She'd even gone to his house to track him down, but had been told he hadn't returned.

Ichigo...

It was thanks to him that she had passed. If not for his encouragement, she would never have studied. Sure, it had been stressful, and she never enjoyed the late night study sessions they went through. But she wasn't blaming Ichigo for that. It made her sad, and somewhat angry, that he'd run out on her. It was as if he'd been angry at her for something. But she hadn't done anything wrong, had she...?

She struggled to remember anything she could have done or said to him that would tick him off. But there was nothing in particular that had happened in the last two months to make him angry at her. In fact, two months ago, Ichigo had been the one apologizing. Right... they'd been leaving the school library after a study session when Ichigo had accidentally spilled hot coffee all over her uniform.

In exchange, she'd convinced him to give her his notes, so that she wouldn't have to work as hard to catch up. In the end, he decided to turn the night into yet another study session so that they could cram more information in. But unlike their usual all-nighters, he'd left early. Maybe that was it...?

She stood up and opened the window, leaning out and staring at the stars. "But..." she paused, feeling the threads of memory slowly clearing themselves in her mind, "that was the night when he..." She blushed a little bit as she began to recall what he'd said before leaving, "He... He asked me if I'd..."

There was movement below her. Her eyes fell to the pavement, "Ichigo?"

Empty... there was no one there. After a moment more of intense staring, she saw a small outline move in the background. A small black cat ran down to the other end of the street, vanishing at the sound of a dog barking far off in the neighborhood. She turned around and looked at the clock.

12:01


	4. Segment III: Confession of Denial Pt I

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

Tatsuki gazed out at the world outside of her home. It was so expansive, and hard to picture just by standing there. She could see children playing in the road. With envy, her eyes followed the little green ball as it rolled to and fro from one end of the street to the other. As they gathered to different sidewalks, Tatsuki noticed the morning bus roll along. She laughed aloud as the kids scattered again, immediately after they saw it turn its wheels onto another street.

She retreated to her room and undressed. Slipping out of her pajamas, she thought back to her own childhood. She could remember little tidbits of her own childhood, if fragmented. Before the divorce, she used to play with the others girls in her neighborhood. Sometimes, some of the girls would bring a jump rope, or even dolls to play with. Of course, she herself never had anything to bring. It had been so long ago since she'd skipped out on her youth. It was funny, and just a little bit sad, but she didn't feel bad for any part of her past. She glanced at the clock.

8:36

Pulling on a white collared shirt, she went into the kitchen, where Inoue was eating eggs, fully dressed. She grinned as she indicated a certain... condiment. "Orihime...!" she scolded, "One of these days you're gonna poison yourself." Inoue only giggled in reply, offering Tatsuki a seat. The energy she emitted passed on to her friend, who sat down and bit into a sausage,

"So where do you want to go?"

Ichigo paused at the doorway. He stared long and hard at the hollow-wooded barrier, looking at the hinges and framing. The hand he had raised to knock with fell to his side. He turned around and knelt down. Could he do it? After what he'd done yesterday, he almost felt obligated. The problem was, after what he'd done yesterday, she'd probably also be too angry to go. A round, green object rolled between his knees and stared at him.

He was looking at his reflection in a shiny ball. He looked up. Young kids were staring at him, some waving their arms, others yelling, "Here! Over here!" A little girl with short, black hair, ran up to the edge of the lawn before calling out to him,

"Hey, Mister! Can you give us our ball?"

He stood up, ball in hand, and threw it over to hear. As the little girl turned to her friends he called out to her. "It's not Mister!" he chuckled, sticking his tongue out. The others laughed and thanked him. He watched them play their game.

It was a simple game, one he had played in his own childhood. You tossed the ball back and forth, trying to make sure you caught it as much as possible. For every catch you got, you scored a point. When a car came around, you would decide whether to run across the street, or stay where you were. If you stayed, nothing happened to you. If you ran, the car had to actually go through the street or you were out. If the car did pass by you, you automatically got one-hundred points.

His mother hated when he played that game. He never understood it at the time, but now...

"Ichigo? What are you doing here?"

He looked over his shoulder. Standing there, back bent, hands holding two pairs of shoes, Tatsuki looked up at him with mild surprise. Behind her, Inoue Orihime was waving. Throwing a casual hello, he extended an arm to Tatsuki, taking one of the shoes in his other hand. With some reluctance, she grasped his wrist and pulled herself up. As he handed her the pair he had relieved her of, she demanded again,

"What are you doing here?"

He sighed. Out of exasperation, exhaustion, or maybe even irritation, she wasn't sure. A neat wad of tickets emerged from his wallet, and he flicked the back with a finger, "The barbecue... Don't tell me you actually forgot." From behind her, Orihime took her sandals and slipped them on. With a start, Tatsuki nodded,

"Oh, yeah! I _did_ beat class average didn't I...?"

To this, an awkward silence was the only reply. After several moments, he turned to Orihime, "Would you like to go, Inoue?" Like a little girl she beamed, but froze. Turning to Tatsuki she asked, "Ooh! Can I go?! I want to go too!" Perhaps a little hesitantly, the raven-haired girls nodded in approval.

It wasn't as if she had any plans, after all. Still, there was something strange about Ichigo's demeanor. When she gazed into his eyes, he dodged them. If anything, it was as if he didn't want to be where he was. And her forgetting the barbecue probably didn't help much either.

Right... It was tradition for the upperclassmen to hold a going-away barbecue. In truth, it was really the parents who did the gruntwork, but the annual gathering at the park attracted outsiders as well. People bought tickets for food and games. They had prizes too. The proceeds of the party went back to the school. Some people called it a farewell gift, while others laughably called it an apology for all the stress the upperclassmen had caused in their three years.

Unbelievable. She'd even wanted to go. How could she have forgotten about it? She'd been so happy when Ichigo promised to take her. She could almost understand why he seemed displeased. But... no. Wait... There was something else bothering him. At the moment, he and Inoue were watching the children, while Inoue happily imagined all the things she would eat. As she turned around to grab her things, she noticed Ichigo look at her from the corner of his eye.

Her cellphone began buzzing. She looked around before hurrying over to the sofa, where it lay, charging. When she flipped it open, there was a reminder on the screen: Barbecue with Ichigo at

10:00

"Y-you really mean it...?!"

Inoue grinned through her ears. With a smile, Ichigo handed her several tickets. "Knock yourself out," he scratched the back of his head. Tatsuki felt a warmth grow inside of her. Ichigo was good with kids. When Inoue was having fun, he was the perfect person to have around. She bit her tongue to keep from bursting out in laughter, as Ichigo nervously checked the contents of his wallet.

"I think I have enough..." he chuckled, "You thinking of digging in?" Tatsuki smiled back, elbowing him teasingly, "Oh, you want to make me fat now?" He flicked a ticket at her, laughing when it left a small mark in her forehead. She exhaled slowly. This was nice. Everyone was here. She could see classmates and friends partying. Some of them waved. Most of them seemed to be too busy to notice her. She would greet them later.

Ichigo seemed to be staring off into the distance. His eyes were blank, his persona seemingly disconnected. Gone were the friendly smiles and mischievous laughs. She stated his name once. No response. He didn't even so much as twitch. She opened her mouth to say his name again.

He turned to her. She backed away suddenly. For what reason, she couldn't say. He was looking at her, gazing at her, piercing her with his eyes. There was something about his expression that made her uncomfortable. It was sucking. It drew her closer, so she backed away. He seemed lost in some kind of faraway place.

If only he could tell her. The things he could feel trying to burst out from his head. He wanted to tell her all about them. He wanted to tell someone. If he could just utter it, he could finally close his eyes and rest. The person he looked at was someone he knew, and yet someone he didn't. She was both an acquaintance and a stranger. A silhouette of someone he had once known. What was her name...?

He couldn't remember. He could never remember. From a time he failed to remember, he had forgotten. He felt his chest tighten. He didn't like it... this feeling. ...this pain. He felt the urge to touch her. He, Ichigo, felt the desire to hold her. This strange... thing... that tortured him so. He knew the face, but it was different from his memory.

At his name, the vision faded. Tatsuki stood before him, her head to her palm to his head, feeling for sign of a fever. "You should sit down," she beckoned, motioning to a bench and guiding him down onto a seat. She searched for a stall and, locating one, took one of her tickets and purchased a cold soda. He stared at it with an estranged face. After a pause, he opened in and chugged the fizzy liquid away.

She looked for Inoue. The girl was animatedly conversing with Chizuru, who seemed more into her breasts than the conversation. She looked at Ichigo, who stared at the empty can, rotating it idly in his hands. "Strange..." she muttered. When he questioned her, she shook her head and checked her watch.

12:01


	5. Segment IV: Confession of Denial Pt II

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

For one reason or another he felt compelled to go to sleep. Actually, he felt, more than anything, driven to close his eyes. He and Tatsuki stood side-by-side, their arms resting on the railing of a miniature wooden bridge. Tatsuki's eyes lay on Orihime, who saw beneath a tree some ways away, deep within the pages of a book. Ichigo's gaze remained fixed on Tatsuki,

"You made a promise to her, didn't you...?"

She nodded, "Yes. I told you about that, didn't I?" Shrugging, he turned around to look far into the horizon, in the direction of the drooping sun, "Well, some people forget those things." She giggled, "Well, what _do_ you remember?"

"You'd protect her...? I don't know..."

"You're not trying. C'mon, boy! Think."

He closed his eyes and struggled to remember. Her footsteps echoed on the hollow bottom. He opened his eyes in time to feel her finger strike his forehead.

"Her hair," she spoke. He looked at her as if she'd gone mad,

"Her _hair_?"

"Well... yeah. I promised to protect her from anyone who wanted to hurt her, stupid reasons or otherwise..."

He nodded. It was sympathetic. Tatsuki observed Orihime watching the two of them. But she knew who it was the girl was looking at.

Up until recently, Orihime and Ichigo had been... friends, to speak highly of his attitude. Lately, it seemed as if her feelings for Ichigo had manifested. It wasn't something that had just arisen from nowhere. She could read a communication between them. There had been times when they had stared at each other without a word, before disappearing with Sado and Uryu. There was a relationship between the two that she knew she couldn't fathom, at least, for the time being. It wasn't a spot that she, Tatsuki could fill.

For some reason, that made her angry. She felt something contract inside. A chill ran up her spine. She looked at Ichigo in silence, and perhaps a little awe. He was looking back, equally intimidated by something. They had something in common. At a young age, her parents had divorced for seemingly no reason at all. She often blamed herself for being so totally oblivious throughout the whole ordeal.

On the advice of her counselor, she took up Japanese Martial Arts. It was a good outlet. That was where she met Ichigo...

Ichigo... Kurosaki...

The runt. With his orange hair and carefree attitude, he just showed up out of the blue. His mother had been with him. On his first day there he came with a smile. After the class, he ran to his mother and cried, because he wasn't used to the pain. When she comforted him, he immediately returned to his happy self.

It was evident to Tatsuki that this boy had something that she lacked. She loathed him. When they formed training groups, she took it upon herself to ensure that they were paired together. In that way, she could beat his body to a pulp. Of course, that smile of his never really did fade. And every time his mother came to pick him up, it revived itself to its former state. It made her feel dirty, but, more than anything else, angry, that he had someone who wielded that power over him.

The power to smile... These days, when he smiled, it was really more of a remnant. He wasn't really "happy" to use it in full term. Moreover, it was actually rare for him to show the emotion of enjoyment. She was used to the continual sulk that he carried on through during classes.

After his mother died, the smiles vanished. He began skipping on his classes and Martial Arts lessons. Her death had been an answer to one of Tatsuki's deepest wishes, and a testament to one of Tatsuki's greatest sins... or so she liked to call it. But these days, when he smiled, it was just that... a remnant. She asked herself if there were a way to bring the original smile back to his face.

"Ichigo...?"

She stared at Ichigo, his lips open, half a ways through a declaration. A leaf passed between them. In that brief moment, he cocked his head the other way, refusing to look at her. _I love you..._ She could hear it ringing in her head. Her heart was pounding. She turned away.

Was it she who had spoken, or Ichigo? She wasn't sure. She'd be so lost in thought, that she could have said just about anything to him. Behind her, Ichigo stole periodic glances at her. They blushed in unison. Immediately, they faced each other,

"Did you just—?"

"Did you just—?"

"I, uh..."

"Oh, excuse... me."

For an eternity their eyes held together. There it was again... that strange look. The feeling of being drawn to him overtook her again. It was so far away, and so close at the same time. She felt like he was looking at a different girl. Nervously, she looked around. There was no one else around. Even Orihime was gone from her reading grounds. The book was absent from under the tree. She was the only other person to look at.

As if to make conversation, she timidly asked him where Orihime had gone. He grunted suddenly, the gaze retreating.

"N-no... nothing...!" was his only response. He stepped off of the bridge, digging into his pocket and setting a little box on the edge of the railing, before taking off. Tatsuki stared...

She hadn't said anything. No... not a word had come from her mouth before Ichigo had spoken. Or was she dreaming? She could have sworn she'd heard him say something. But now that she thought of it, she wasn't so sure anymore. She felt like she was going crazy again. Her skin began to tingle a little bit. Hot... it was hot... too hot. But she wasn't at home. Or maybe it was she who had spoken after all. Maybe the words she'd heard hadn't been what she thought they'd been. If so then... what were they?

By the time she calmed herself down enough to think, she already had her hands around the little package that had been left on the railing. It was a small box, covered in green wrapping paper and wrapped in pink lace like a mini-present. Written on a small yellow tag, decked out in fancy calligraphy, she saw her full name in hiragana.

With unsteady hands, she delicately removed the lid. Inside was a pendant, three stars in an arched fashion, each with a blue jewel embedded inside. Extended from a metallic loop, the thin string of a necklace extended down beyond the ornamental cushion. Tatsuki pulled the trinket up from its case, blinking in surprise when the top popped off.

Fastened down with thin strips of scotch tape, the metal lace formed the shape of a heart at the bottom of the tin. She felt her heart stop...

"I..."

* * *

From behind a nearby tree, Orihime Inoue's sad eyes observed in silence, as Tatsuki fastened the token of affection around her neck. She watched Ichigo as he took one final, rather distant look at Tatsuki, before hopping aboard the bus and disappearing. She held a hand to her chest, her breath heavy. Her hands had been tightly gripping her wrists during the whole ordeal. She could see the broken display, led crystal spilling out over the screen. She could faintly make out a time... 

12:01


	6. Segment V: Poisonous Vibe

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

"Haah! Ichigo!!!"

The pillow flew about two feet from the futon. The sheets landed about a foot away, ruffled and wet with sweat. Tatsuki stood up, fists raised out of habit, cheeks red, and legs quivering. She was dripping with sweat. She could hear electrical buzzing from the main room. Her chest was shaky, her breath unsteady. Her knees gave way, and her body crumpled to the floor. She felt weak. Her skin was crawling with a tingling sensation. It made no sense. The burn on her back had just about faded away. Even though she was soaking to the marrow in her own sweat, she felt hot.

Now she could make out the noise of the heater on full blast. Gripping whatever object was closest, she did her best to stand, making her way to the thermostat. Forty-two degrees Celsius, close to as high as the thermostat would go. When she found that the buttons refused to work, she grimaced. Clenching her fists and abhorring the sticky feeling between her fingers, she punched the thermostat hard, falling to her bosom as sparks spewed forth. She gasped in pain, but sighed with relief as the heater shut itself off.

She'd had the dream again...

After the barbecue, Tatsuki hadn't seen Ichigo for three days. Even when she managed to work up the courage to go to his house on Thursday, she'd been told that he repeatedly went out to places he never told them of. She checked the river, where he could sometimes be found reminiscing, but he hadn't been there either. She peered up at the black and white cat clock over the front door.

11:21

She stood up again and staggered into the bathroom. Her clothes made no opulence of silence, noisily squishing themselves into a sloppy pile wherever they landed. She knelt down upon her shower floor and pulled on the dial. Cool water rushed over her body. She didn't jerk or shudder. Her body was too hot to complain. When she had cooled down enough to stand, she began to shampoo her hair. As the suds ran down her breasts, along the apex of her stomach, and through her legs, she could feel the water grow a bit warmer. She could feel her head getting fuzzy...

_A callused hand touched her back. It stroked along her side and covered her stomach, making her shiver. Yet another hand took her wrist, pulling it away and lowering it down to her thighs. The alternate throbbing in the back of her head faded. She groaned with satisfaction as it massaged her palm. The hand that covered her stomach raised up to her breasts, massaging them gently, easing away the pain. She felt herself growing hot..._

_The second hand glided along the suds on her arm, rising around her shoulder and gently hooking itself across her neck bone. The hard, sinewy muscles cushioned softly along her skin. She cooed involuntarily as a finger squeezed her nipple. Then the arms pulled her body backwards. She felt an unfamiliar torso press against her. She blushed. She could feel a liquid pooling deep between her legs. She could swear she was sweating under the water..._

_A pair of legs rubbed up behind her. She parted her legs through no will of her own, and felt the rough hands firmly, but gently steady them. Fingers of someone she knew crawled between her crevice. When she felt it hoist her thighs up, she leaned against the cold shower tiling. She shuddered. Her entire skin was tingling. It felt good. She was burning up. It couldn't have been the water..._

_Something settled between her neck. She let her head hang sideways, giggling seductively. A soft tongue rolled along a scratch in her skin, lips enveloping around the extension, sucking up the sweat. Without warning, teeth sank into her skin. She felt something convulse in her waist. A slimy substance oozed down her legs. She cried out,_

"ICHIGO!!!"

Tatsuki thudded her head against the tiling. As she did so, her skin screamed in pain. In a panic, she shoved her knee into the dial, which was turned to the highest heat setting. She collapsed to the floor, hugging her shoulders. She could feel pain in tiny little stabs all over her neck and back. She gasped suddenly, her legs spasming. She could see liquids spurting from her body. She watched it slowly roll down the middle. There was a bitter... aroma in the air. Her legs were quite lubricated. She blushed, her fingers contracting with pain at the burn marks.

Without realizing it, she'd turned up the heat again. Now she felt even weaker than before. What disturbed her was that she felt good. This sensation... this pain that surged through her nerves felt good. Even now, she could feel her legs trembling. Her breasts were stinging with pleasure. Her nipples were hard and erect. She felt sick..._really_ sick...

She stood up slowly, gently easing herself into the bathroom. With what strength she had, she applied ointment to her back. She could still feel those solid hands, which had been anything but idle. They taunted her, haunted her, drove her mad with sensations. As if a ghost were in the room...

Counting that one, that made four dreams. Each and every night since Ichigo had abandoned her at the park she'd had these dreams. Some unknown character appeared, holding her, caressing her, and stimulating her. Each and every time, she woke up hot and sweaty. And each time she stood up, her fists raised, she could still hear the same name bouncing off the walls,

"Ichigo..."

And now, for the first time she had crossed the line. The other times had been, well, tolerable, compared to tonight. She had never even... She couldn't even think of how her body had responded.

She held herself tightly, naked and in the dark, "God... I'm so _filthy_. I'm so _disgusting_!_Why_, dammit, _why_?!" She bent over, a tear falling from her eyes. "Ichigo," she whispered softly, "What would you think of me if you knew...?"

Something tinkled below her. She opened her eyes, wiping the tear away. The necklace... it was still there... In the moonlight it glinted. She got up, ignoring the discomfort in her body. She opened the window, ignorant of the fact that she was still nude. Instead of mind her figure, she held up the pendant against the white crescent moon. It twinkled blue, reminding her of Ichigo's smile. It imposed a feeling of impurity upon herself. There was an impulse to melt in with the dark silhouettes that moved outside her window. She thought back to the heart he had made with the chain before packaging it.

She felt her leg quake beneath her. She could no longer stand. She crawled to her bed and dried herself off with her towel. Forsaking clothes for exhaustion, she pulled the sheets from her guest futon over herself. The window remained open. As she looked outside, sleep took over her. On the cat clock over the door, the time clock chimed to signal midnight.

12:00

Ichigo stood up again. He craned his head around the tree and looked from window to window. He breathed a sigh of relief. Condensation formed a hazy cloud before his face. He was worried. For the third night in a row, Tatsuki Arisawa had roused from a seemingly frightening dream. He knew this, because for the last four nights, he'd been looking into her house from the lawn. Unhealthy thoughts plagued his mind. He wanted to go inside and check on her. But he couldn't. He was supposed to be home asleep. He was supposed to be dreaming of her, imagining some intimate moment between them...

But it had made him feel like a pervert. The idea of keeping Tatsuki pure in his own mind, while still being close to her, had no cons. At times, he was tempted to go out in spirit, and simply sit next to her while she slept. She would probably never notice he was there that way. Of course, he couldn't... at least not now that it was over... For now, all he could do was return home. He glimpsed his watch, already knowing the time.

12:01


	7. Segment VI: Error

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

It was quiet. All around him, there were noises. Below him, the usual clutter his family made was absent. He looked to his closet, as if expecting someone to come out of it. Yet the sliding door was ajar. From the inside, he could see an old futon lying there. He watched it, praying somewhere inside of him, that someone would peer out from the corner of the door and laugh at him. He looked to the window, his mind set on awaiting whoever it was that would leap in through there.

It was false hope. Those days were gone now. He raised his hand to the ceiling, examining it. For a moment, he seemed to pull out of himself. Now there was a large scar on his arm. He closed his eyes and turned his head away, the blemish vanishing. By now someone should have entered his room...

He wanted to get out and run. He felt like running until he died. His house, his room, his bed, all of it... he just wanted to get away from this place. There were too many memories here for him to deal with. How easy it would be to simple fade away into the background. How surreal and pleasant it could be if he were only to become hidden from the rest of the world. Thoughts such as these came by often. He had only to greet them to get lost in a reverie. He was tired, and yet not tired; sore, and yet not sore; lonely, and yet not alone...

He sat up. Somebody was knocking on their door. It was pretty early. The sun had only just risen in the midst of his thoughts. He glanced at the clock on his bedside table.

5:30

"Tatsuki...?"

She stared,

"I-Ichigo..."

There was a long pause. Tatsuki's eyes wandered to Ichigo's body. He wore only a tank top and boxers. She, on the other hand, had dressed herself in a sweater. There were bags in his eyes. He eyed her strangely... almost malevolently. There was something she hadn't seen in a while. Up until now, she didn't recall when he'd ever stared at her like that. It was nostalgic, she thought. Recently, all she'd ever gotten were those strange, somewhat gentle eyes.

For some reason she missed them...

"Is there..." Ichigo stopped to consider his words with care, "a certain reason you're here...?"

No answer. He scratched the back of his head, glancing behind him. But she could still see his eyes focused on her. It made her uncomfortable in many ways. She frowned,

"Aren't you going to let me inside?"

As if unsure of the idea himself, Ichigo stepped to the side, neither motioning for her to come in, nor indicating that he had any idea as to how to welcome his unexpected guest. As Tatsuki helped herself to a seat, eyed her state of appearance. Her hair was unkempt. She looked exhausted too. By the looks of it, she'd been up all night. He doubted she'd eaten anything either, and as the bus didn't start this early in their area, she clearly walked here. Come to think of it, he hadn't eaten anything after his midnight stroll either. He sighed,

"Judging from your appearance, I assume you haven't eaten yet..."

She nodded. He was rather observant. Ichigo went into the kitchen. She figured he would make something simple for the both of them. Her stomach seemed to perk its head up at the idea of food. She could hear burning gas from the kitchen. A hand extended from the doorway. A voice explained to her that she was free to walk around.

It would probably make the wait shorter if she looked around. Besides, it wasn't as if she went here every day. In fact, she couldn't even remember the last time she'd visit his "humble abode". Humble seemed to be the only thing to call it. The couch was old, and the centerpiece table worn from age. Regardless, it was cozy. The old white paint warmed the room, and the simple windows brought decent lighting.

She remembered the first time she'd ever come here. The stairs creaked so much that she seldom traversed them. It looked as if some of the flooring had been replaced. There were assorted areas with slightly different patterns and colors. Some sections looked newer than others. Even the railing to the stairs had a different color. She ran a finger along the smooth varnish. It was definitely new.

Her foot landed tentatively upon the first step. She applied weight to it, blinking in surprise when all was silent but for the frying of food. Tatsuki looked up. The hallway, unlike the staircase, was just as old as ever. Taking in the surroundings, she advanced along the thin corridor, passing different rooms and remembering their residents. When she came to Ichigo's door, she paused.

It took considerable effort to refrain from twisting the knob. Without realizing it, she'd grasped the brass dial in her fingers. It probably wasn't locked... Ichigo was never really one to lock. Although, she'd never really seen him in a situation where he had to in the first place to begin with... As she turned the knob to the right, she braced for some loud noise or alarm. Pushing the door open, nervous eyes checked the corner, ears intent on hearing something moving towards her.

Nothing. She could still hear the oil crackling in the pan. She stepped inside, glancing all about the room.

The sheets on his bed seemed ruffled. They were tucked in nicely, but still messy. How odd. He'd even taken the time to make his bed before greeting a guest so early in the morning. Her next target was the closet. It rumbled softly as it rolled open. The entire top half of the closet was devoted to a futon. She looked it up and down, examining the different fibers. It didn't look like it had ever been used. The air about it was musty and old. Still, it looked like it was maintained. The pillows and sheets were immaculately clean. There was hardly a wrinkle to be found.

Staring at her with black beads, a small stuffed animal lay on its side, discarded, and dirty. She picked it up in her hands and moved the arms around. The seams appeared to be quite old. There were a few threads sticking out every here and there. She recognized it. It was a stuffed lion that Ichigo used to bring with him, or so she assumed. There was a faint aroma in the air. She stuck her head inside of the closet. Along the futon, particles of strawberry perfume wafted into her nose.

There was a soft thud from below her.

Tatsuki craned her neck around the edge of the door. She listened for Ichigo's footsteps, and heard him cursing in the kitchen. He'd probably burned himself. She breathed a sigh of relief and returned to her explorations.

She eyed his bedside table next. It was plain, with little more on it than a reading lamp, his glasses, and a small, gray tin box. The box was what caught her interest. She approached it. It looked ancient. The remains of a gold lock glinted in all its rusty glory. She picked it up, feeling the dents and scratches that decorated its exterior.

She looked behind her again. The sound of clinking glass told her that he was setting the table. She would have to go down soon.

But she wanted to open the box. Given its nature, she wondered what was inside it. It was a stereotype. She would be crazy _not_ to look inside. The impulse to set it down and hurry downstairs was overpowering. Her feet anchored themselves to the ground stubbornly. She inhaled deeply, talking to herself, coaxing herself. When she was ready, she placed her thumb at the base of the lid,

"Here goes..."

She pushed it open. It fell backward upon its hinge and bounced up once or twice. She gaped. From below the stairs, Ichigo called her name. She didn't hear him...

Inside was a copy of her school photo. She'd given it to Ichigo in their first year. It looked crumpled and old, as if he'd tried to throw it away. There was an envelope lying at the bottom of the tin. "To: Tatsu" was written on the front in calligraphy. She noticed that it seemed lopsided. There was something hidden below it. Placing the envelope on the table, she saw that there were three slips of paper. When she read them carefully, she saw they were receipts.

"Wait... this is..."

She pulled out her necklace. On the first slip, the name of popular charms store, followed by the price for a "Blue-star necklace." On the second one, purchased on an earlier date from the same store was the listing: "Blue-star earrings." She saw the earrings at the bottom of the tin. Like her necklace, each piece had three stars in an arch, the center of each embedded with a blue gem. She blushed. He'd spent considerable amounts of money for these.

A necklace and an earring. That left one slip. Her eyes fell on the name of a well-known jeweler. Below it, a single item in bold was listed:

"Custom Blue Diamond Engagement Ring"

She looked at the price. He had to have saved a fortune to purchase it. Her eyes fell upon a little green box, styled in the same way that the necklace had been. Her heart raced. For all that gods were worth, if she didn't know what was inside it she would die. She trembled as she held it open.

It was simple, yet beautiful. The ring itself was composed of platinum. The edges were smooth and clear. In the center, like a fusion of a diamond and star, a glistening blue diamond sat in silence. She touched it, feeling the edges. As the light shone off of it, she noticed that there was something engraved in the base below the diamond. When she looked at it up close, she saw that it read "love." Below it, on the inside of the ring, "Tatsuki Arisawa" was written in gold.

Tatsuki Arisawa... Whoever this girl was, she envied her. Her heart was pounding against her chest. She wanted to meet this Arisawa. Maybe they could be friends. If Ichigo loved her, surely _she_ could meet Tatsuki. From the hall, Ichigo called her name. What was it again? Goodness, she was so preoccupied with this Tatsuki that she failed to remember. Tatsuki... Maybe she was another student at school... Or...

"Tatsuki!" Ichigo caught her as she fell. He shook her. No response. Her eyes were closed. She put an ear over her mouth, and when he felt her breath, relaxed. She had fainted...

He set her upon the bed and sighed. The tin lay on the floor, the contents scattered about. The earrings were still lying in the tin. A breeze through the open window tossed the receipts about. The envelope was stuck in a crack through the floorboards.

He picked up the ring, staring at it for a long time. Tatsuki had seen everything. All the things he had been hiding from her... Callused fingers massaged his forehead. The usual migraine was now worse than ever. He would have to explain everything to her once she woke up. He didn't like the idea. His thumb stroked her cheek. There were tears in her eyes. It wiped them away. She was beautiful... It was amazing how feminine she looked in her sleep. He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned upon the wall and closed his eyes. For now, all he could do was sleep.

The door swung open with ease. Orihime peered inside. Tatsuki's house was silent. She spotted a note lying on the table:

_I've gone out for a while. I'll be back soon, Orihime._

There was a small watch lying next to the note. On it, Tatsuki had marked an alarm time.

12:01


	8. Segment VII: Lame Admission

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

It was dark...

Somewhere in the distance, the faint tingle of wind chimes tickled her ears. A gentle breeze played across his face. From a different direction, the musk of sweat filled her nostrils, encouraging her to inhale. With the intoxicating aroma filling her head, she suddenly felt the urgency to exhale. In fact, she was beginning to feel lightheaded, for one reason or another.

She could almost visualize the beads of sweat as they ran down sun-kissed skin. It felt soothing to feel the warm sheets below her as the soft fabric rubbed against the exposed areas of her skin. It too had a very strong though easy fragrance about it. She could hear rain pattering on roof, her fingers rhythmically contracted to the beat. The temperature was beginning to get to her. She rolled onto her side, hopinase some of the heat.

"Ichigo..."

As she sat up, the moonlight made her head throb. She groaned slightly under her breath. She could have sworn that Ichigo had been watching her. Now she scanned the room. All she could see in the black abyss was the silhouette of a door ajar. The hall emitted a faint light. A clock began to chime, signaling the time. She counted each ring.

6:00

A cold fog was forming around his hand. The sensitivity in his fingers was slipping away. Less than half an inch of cheap glass separated him from impossibly thick sheets of rain. He watched as the landscape outside was torn apart. Tiny droplets grew with the heat from his appendage, joining together and forming large droplets. They grew heavy, finally rolling down the window.

The foundation shifted, causing the walls of the house to crack. In the backdrop of the rain, the disturbance was uncannily loud. Clenched his fist and pressed it lightly to the oily center. The traces of new forming condensation at the outermost points from his hand quickly vanished. The spot where his palm had been was very warm.

It was too heavy to go out. It had been his intention to take Tatsuki home once she'd woken up. Given the weather, the plan was unlikely. He hoped the rain would abate soon. An overnight stay did not seem all too friendly. His family had gone out on a trip without him, and would probably be coming back the next day. Needless to say, it would be unwise for them to come home, only to find one of his classmates sleeping in his room. The consequences would be harsh, if unpredictable.

"Ichigo..."

He looked up. Tatsuki stood in the middle of the staircase, looking down at him. He opened his mouth to ask her if she'd slept well, but held his tongue. The air was stale. In the midst of the awkward silence, she stepped down to the bottom and leaned on the railing. Her eyes fell on the metal tin, lying open on a table, all of its contents restored. She looked from the table to Ichigo, and then to the table again. Though he seemed to understand her question, he gave her no answer. She grimaced, finding the stuffiness of the atmosphere unbearable. He turned to the window again, averting her gaze.

"Did you," she paused, waiting for him to look up, "go out for a walk last night...?"

More silence. Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance. She sighed,

"Lately I think I've been getting a little bit crazy...

"I keep thinking that you're everywhere. And deep inside I really want to believe that you are. You're even invading my dreams now, Ichigo. Every time I look up, you're there in some form. Whenever I stop to think, I'm usually thinking about you. It's driving me mad. I don't like it... these feelings... I... I want to know what they are.

"Am I a pervert for thinking this way? Is there something wrong with the way I've been viewing you? Is there something wrong with _me_?" At this, Ichigo looked up. But she continued, undisturbed, "I can understand if you don't approve of it... I'm getting obsessed about you, and I don't know a lot of people who find that kind of thing healthy..."

He walked over to the small tin and picked up the ring case from the bottom, discarding the lid on the sofa and holding the pedestal in his hands. "Have you been wearing the necklace that I gave you...?" he asked. She pulled out the icon from beneath her shirt and held it in what little light there was. Another silence ensued.

"What was the meaning of this...?"

He stared long and hard at her, considering her question. She stared back, patiently awaiting her answer. He removed the ring from the box and dropped it next to the lid, "So... A guy needs a reason to give a nice charm to a girl he likes...?" She blushed, turning away as his palm stroked her face, "Is that your idea of a confession?" "I could probably ask the same of that monologue," he smiled. Her pulse was racing. He took her by the wrist, isolating her ring finger from the others.

"A-are you... sure about this...?"

He shrugged, "Depends..."

Perhaps it was the vagueness of his answer, or maybe it was the blunt readiness to devote himself entirely to her. There was something not right about this... Not to say it was wrong either, but... "I'm not sure..." she thought aloud. He was silent for a very long time.

Behind him, the rain seemed to thin out somewhat. She tried to think. She was unable to think. There were intangible forms and ideas shaping in her mind. Ichigo was wearing that unreadable expression of sadness again. It occurred to her that he was probably hiding his thoughts from her intentionally. Were that the case, what would he have to hide? But, then again... if he did love her, that would have meant he'd been hiding it from her all this time. Was there some reason to mask his affections for her? It made no sense...

To have just "bottled it all up inside" as he had must have taken quite a lot of mental effort. Even now, behind the veil of maturity, she could sense it was taking a great deal of willpower on his part, simply to avoid bursting out. What was there to hide, she asked herself again. Was he afraid...? Did he fear rejection? It was natural to protect oneself from rejection. But Ichigo had been too... genuine. And now that he was here, there was no point in holding back from a confrontation.

She mused. _Maybe I did something to make him mad..._ It sounded ridiculous, she knew, but for some reason that idea clung to her. It was back to square one again. She'd been here before. Perhaps there was some reason for him desire avoiding her. Then again, it wasn't as if he'd been hitting on her this entire time. Even though his actions as of late had been those of fondness, the idea that they were obvious was all too laughable. So what then...? Was there no answer? No reason?

She doubted there was, for all it mattered. A tear fell.

"Ichigo... what if...?"

He looked up again. In the despairing quiet he had absentmindedly rested his forehead on hers. It looked as if he, too, was deeply immersed in self-contemplation. He was, she was sure. She grimaced. So then... how can...

"How can you be sure that I'm 'the one'...?"

She was crying now. There were no sobs, no whimpers, no shakes... She simply stared longingly at him, question his resolve. Her tears slowly stopped as the moment faded away. As he gazed back with equal sadness, she thought she saw the ghost of a melancholy smile,

"Well, who knows...?"

As he slipped the ring onto her finger, he glanced up at her face. She could see warmth in his smile now, and felt its contagious effects as he wrapped his arms around her.

She could remember it now... Besides, it wasn't as if he was proposing_again_. She could remember that night, studying for the AP exams like a dog, when he first asked her an important question. And all this time, Ichigo was still patiently waiting for an answer.

"I think I'm having another dream," she exhaled slowly. Ichigo grinned, "Then do what you always do in your dreams..."

His eyes widened in mild surprise as she lay a kiss upon his lips. With strange coerciveness, her lips squeezed between his and parted, her tongue sliding past his, freely feeling about. Chuckling against her, he leaned further upon her, making her groan. She could read his thoughts more clearly now... His mind was blank... He probably knew hers was too.


	9. Segment VIII: Taking a Mile

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

Laughter...

The children were probably playing outside again. She rolled over in her futon. The light from the windows was too bright. She muttered of getting new curtains, bringing her hand over her eyes. Momentary silence. She could hear the wheels of a car rolling by. When she could hear it no more, the laughter resumed.

"Ichi—!" she sat upright, for the first time noticing that she was in her own room, "—go..."

"A dream...?" the words seemed hollow, they themselves acting as a catalyst of doubt. She shook her head, "It had to have been a dream..." As soon as she managed to thoroughly convince herself that everything she'd felt had been another dream, she rolled back over to the other side and reached for her necklace...

It wasn't there. In a flurry she was on her feet. Not one place would remain untouched until she found her necklace. The first thing she would check was her futon. She held it up and shook it, checking the floor and glancing down at the bottom of her bed. When nothing came of it, she pulled the sheets away and began feeling through each one individually.

It was as she was pulling out another sheet that a bright blue streak flashed her eye. With the desperation of a lost child, her eyes swung in the direction of the window, as if expecting her necklace be there, on the windowsill. She was probably being glared by the brightness of the morning sun. She raised her hand to shield her eyes somewhat. In doing so, she saw that the flash had come, not from her necklace, but from her ring.

It was still there, on her finger. An idle hand pressed to her breast, cupping around her heart. It was beating rapidly. Her cheeks were flushed, her breath unsteady. She squeezed tighter, remembering how Ichigo had felt her heart, and recalling how utterly stimulating it had been. She opened her eyes again, trying to recollect everything that had happened.

After she kissed him, he took her to his room. For a long time, they lay in his bed, simply embracing each other, their lips locked. On occasion he touched her body, calmly exploring her. She let him, and even encouraged him. And when she found it too hard to breath, they stopped and held each other more. Eventually she'd fallen asleep, cooing softly to his gentle strokes. After that...

She'd awoken here. She giggled. It never crossed her mind that Ichigo could be a gentleman. He must have taken her home early in the morning. Since he had no car and didn't drive, she assumed he carried her home.

She looked around. Ichigo had left little sign that he had ever entered her house, other than the fact that her keys, which she had carefully stored in her pocket, were now sitting on the floor next to where her bed was. She stood up and looked outside, half expecting to see Ichigo watering her lawn. At this, she burst out in laughter. Ichigo tending to her lawn and planting flowers for her.

Now she was really deep in it... She blushed, suddenly realizing how quickly her feelings for Ichigo had manifested. Was this normal? She couldn't recall ever being in love. Sure, she'd felt mild feelings of affection towards Ichigo in the past but... marriage? It wasn't something she'd ever considered in her life. Just five days ago, she viewed Ichigo as just someone else in her life. Friendly, maybe, but at the time, the very idea of kissing a boy was... far off.

And just like that she was unofficially engaged to him. Not that she could even get engaged, but the sentiment was still there. She was even daydreaming of her newlywed days. Even if it was based off of what she saw on those TV dramas, it felt real. It was bright outside. The warm rays felt good on her skin. Soothing...

As she entered her kitchen, she noticed a steaming plate of food sitting on her table. Potatoes, eggs, and some brown rice formed a neat mound on a beautiful blue china plate. There was a toothpick inserted at the top of the mound with a note attached to it like a flag. Her stomach growled. Even though he cooked for her yesterday, they had been too busy to eat. She was famished. She hadn't eaten for an entire day.

The note was more important:

_Neither of us ate at all yesterday, so I used some of your food to make breakfast for you. I left a bowl of extras in the microwave in case you wanted more. Sorry if I took a bite..._

—_Ichigo_

_P.S. — I want you to meet me at the shopping plaza later. I'll be waiting at the fountain at three._

She glanced at the clock. It was already two-o-clock. She took a bite, mulling over the meeting. A _date_... She blushed. Never in her life had she ever had a _date_. When on a date, one wanted to look nice. A lot of things happened on dates. They never really _had_ gone out before. It was almost necessary. She would have to shower and wear _nice_ clothes. But... she didn't _have_ nice clothes!

Her plate was already empty, her stomach now full. She dashed to the mirror and checked her appearance. Her hair was a tousled mess. Her eyes were caked with dry tears. She rubbed out the dry flakes with her hands, looking around for a comb.

"Tatsuki?"

That voice... it wasn't Ichigo. Standing in the doorway, Orihime Inoue cocked her head to the side, "What are you doing...?" Tatsuki blushed, "Oh, err—I uh..." She couldn't tell Orihime about her involvement with Ichigo, if she could call it that. Her "rendezvous" was something that ought to be kept secret for the time being.

Orihime noticed two articles of clothing in Tatsuki's hands. She was comparing shirts. With a grin and a clap she ran up to her,

"Ooh! I'll help you out!"

Tatsuki fell over, dumbfounded and Orihime literally dumped the contents of her closet on the floor, "Ah! T-that's alright, Orihime! I can do it myself!"


	10. Segment IX: Lit Honeysuckle

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

"Early..."

Ichigo felt his temple throb. He gritted his teeth together, "I'm an hour early... And Tatsuki's late..." At the mention of her name, his frown turned into a slight smile. He struggled to maintain his rough appearance, finally sighing, "And dammit! I still can't keep from smiling!" Above him, a giant clock tower chimed the half-hour bell. He checked his watch out of habit, scolding himself for doing so.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small green box decorated with pink ribbons. Inside were the earrings, which he had failed to give Tatsuki the night before. He still glowed from recent events. He wondered if this was how it felt to be on a date. By the time he realized the significance of his invitation, he was already going to the plaza. Though he wasn't exactly keen on the idea of a first date, he had to admit that meeting Tatsuki here _did_ have its perks.

Off in the crowd, Ichigo spotted two familiar figures. The first, dressed in black pants and a nice green collar, Tatsuki gave a feeble wave. As Ichigo saw the other figure, he slapped his forehead. Orihime Inoue jumped up and down waving.

Tatsuki could see the look of angst on his face. Somehow, Orihime had "convinced" her to let her tag along. Ichigo ran up to them, greeting Orihime with a smile.

"Fancy meeting you here, Ichigo!"

He paused. "I see..." turning to Tatsuki, he motioned to her with a finger, "Can I have a word?" Embarrassed, she humbly trotted after him towards the fountain, leaving Orihime to look around and look for the first place she would eat at.

"I'm sorry Ichigo! I left the front door open and she came in unannounced!"

He blinked. His thumb stroked her bottom lip, "You're wearing make-up, aren't you...?" She blushed, nodded and looked away. Sighing, he looked over at Orihime, focusing back on Tatsuki when he saw her sampling different foods, "Does she know about... _us_?" Tatsuki shook her head. The way he used the word made her uncomfortable. He did his best to smile.

"Don't worry, Tatsuki. You look good."

Leaving those words of comfort, he ran over to Orihime. She watched their animated conversation with some interest. Suddenly, Orihime broke into a wide smile. Tatsuki blinked, walking over at Ichigo's nod. Orihime simply beamed, "Tatsuki! Ichigo said he has tickets to the carnival!"

"Uh... W-what carnival?"

Ichigo scratched the back of his head, holding out four tickets for "Dazzling Twilight Dream". "It's a traveling carnival... they were here over the weekend, and on request decided to stay one more day..." he said. As he and Orihime began walking away he added, "I thought it would be fun if I went with someone." Tatsuki ran to catch up, grinning. He rubbed his nose and looked away. She elbowed his side, "Well... I guess we can be gentlemen _some of the time_...!"

In their affectionate banter, neither one noticed Orihime's jealous stare.

* * *

"So _this_ is the Duklyon Cafe..."

"I've heard rumors, but I didn't think it was this popular."

"Do you really want to wait in that line...?"

Ichigo's stomach growled. He blushed and turned away. Orihime giggled, while Tatsuki looked on concernedly. More concerned about eating than anything else, he perused his wallet. She blushed. So it was a date... "Do you have enough?" Orihime chimed in.

"Yeah..."

"For all three of us?"

"Um... well..."

He glanced at Tatsuki, carefully choosing his words, "Well... If all three of us went, someone would have to eat a salad." Tatsuki raised an eyebrow, stifling the urge to laugh. He blushed and looked away, having evidently sensed her thoughts. Orihime glowered, sticking her tongue out, "Salad tastes disgusting. They should try red bean paste with honey!" Even with her cute grin, neither Tatsuki nor Ichigo could bring themselves to smile. There was a long silence.

"Oh, hey! I've always wanted to try their Honeysuckle Flagon!"

Orihime blinked, "Honeysuckle...?" Tatsuki gave a feeble nod. The other two cast her odd stares. Ichigo opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the loud crinkling of a plastic bag.

The child grinned, waving a sandwich in the air. "We-e-ell...! If either of you want a delicious meal, I'll be eating at the food court." Ichigo fell silent, his cheeks tinged deep with red. As Orihime disappeared into the throng of people, Tatsuki breathed a sigh of relief.

"I never thought I'd say this but... I think I'm actually glad she's gone."

"Mmm... y-yeah..."

"Ichigo? What's wrong?" she poked him playfully in the stomach. He mumbled and looked away, seemingly unable to bring his face the other way.

* * *

All around there was laughter. Happiness filled the air. With every smile that passed her, she felt a sharp object impale her in the chest. 

Skulking down along a small alley, Orihime struggled through the tightly packed soup of pedestrians. Her eyes beheld a look of utmost disgust, and her usual luster was gone. Her face, unsuited for such expressions, simply looked neutral. Yet there was an aura about her of distaste. Those about her who noticed it, eyed her suspiciously. Finally breaking forth from the large crowd, she stumbled forward. Her foot caught in a large crack, and she began to fall.

"Oh...!"

She felt something in her throat rise up as her hands pressed against something solid.

"Ms. Inoue... a surprise meeting you here, of all times."

She looked up at darkened skin, bright in the light of the sun, "S-Sado..." "Yup," he spoke with idle affirmation, "it's me alright..." Orihime, on the other hand, was in no mood for sarcasm. "Wait," he interposed, for by her own practicality he seemed obligated to stop her by the shoulder, "Something is bothering you... isn't it?" Obvious perhaps, necessary, he felt so. Contrary to his expectations, the child pulled away, pouting.

It was rather unlike her. Orihime was unusually... snippy. A thought passed through his mind. As she dusted herself off, he glanced around, looking for a relatively open restaurant. "I was actually working," he began, as she looked up at him, "Although I'm on break right now." He looked at her, "You seem idle... Would you like to..." he paused, unsure of how to coin his proposal, "...talk about it...?"

It felt like a cold slap to her face. Orihime blushed, feeling embarrassed. She had no reason to be taking her frustrations out on Sado. Of course, she had little desire to sit and chat, but after an outburst like that she had to. With a reluctant nod, she followed him over to "Laughing White".


	11. Segment X: Girl, Dog

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

Tatsuki Arisawa was ravenous. As she tore into her burger, her unmistakable grin of delight seemed to please her affiliate, who looked on with an uneasy smile. Her stomach was already as hollow as a black whole, and sitting there consuming all that food gave off the impression she had no bottom. Ichigo wanted to laugh. Sure, she wasn't what one might call "feminine", but her tomboyish charms were cute, to say the least. He had the sneaking suspicion if he told her so himself, she would bash him on the head. He took a sip of his soda, pushing his tray of fries towards her at her request. Of course, there were those times when was simply too...

"Hey, Ichigo? You aren't eating. Is something wrong?"

Tatsuki's round eyes looking into his. Behind her, one of the waiters rolled by, greeting them and leaving two large flagons of amber liquid on their table. "Your 'Honeysuckle Flagons'. Enjoy!" he announced. Ichigo, in the midst of sipping more of his beverage, hacked. Tatsuki giggled, offering him the handle. "I figured I might as well order some," she explained indifferently, "since I told Orihime I wanted to try some. It looks good doesn't it?"

She gazed at the amber, watching it slosh around in its demijohn. The foam at the top seemed very appetizing, and if she couldn't smell it for herself, she would be convinced it was alcohol. Taking her flagon by both hands, she drained a large gulp, letting it run along her tongue and down her throat. It was sweet... _very_ sweet, and warm. She could feel hot honey dripping down her esophagus, and could feel soft cream rub against her tongue.

There was a thud as she set hers down, looking up to watch Ichigo take a feeble sip while she licked her lips. She beamed, clearly pleased with the results of her purchase, "It's so good, isn't it—?" "—Tatsuki..." he stared down at the clear fluid, clearly disturbed. She looked up.

"...Do you... _know_ the meaning behind _honeysuckle_...?"

"T-the meaning...?" she replied with a start, "What, more meanings?" He shook his head, giving her a serious look that almost forced her to fall silent.

"Undying affection..." he said in a low voice, his eyes glazing over as he remembered hearing the words for the first time. "To give a honeysuckle to a person, Tatsuki is..." he smiled and looked away, "...a symbol of your loyalty and affection towards them." then, waiting for her response, added with a warm tone, "I actually wanted to take you here just so we could try it."

"A-ah...! No, I didn't—," she started, waving her hands innocently.

Of course, there were those times when she was simply too feminine. As she sat there, absentmindedly licking her finger, which she had dripped some of her beverage over, she avoided Ichigo's heated gaze. She was beautiful... just too damn beautiful. When she was energetic and boyish, she was fun to be with, so much so that Ichigo never minded having to hang with her for a whole day.

But she also had a darker, more passionate side to her. He chuckled mellowly and held her necklace, running his finger over the ring that hung from the chain. She hadn't worn it on her finger... He figured she wouldn't, but never expected her to hang it on her necklace. By now she'd fallen silent.

The cafe had open walls, and there was a nice draft in the room. Tatsuki took another gulp from her glass, leaning back as sighing in ecstasy. It was pretty good, Ichigo thought to himself, taking a larger sip. It clung to his throat, slowly sliding down into his stomach, where it left a nice warm afterthought. Hell, it tasted phenomenal. As they finished their refreshments, Ichigo stood up, taking Tatsuki by the hand,

"So, uh... I figured since we're here..." he cleared his throat and took a deep breath, grinning like a ten-year-old at a toy store, "Y-you wanna make it a date?" She was said nothing for a moment, unsure how to react. From deep within her she laughed. It spread outward from her chest, making her dizzy with happiness. Ichigo scratched the back of his head, "Was it that ridiculous? Ah—!" Through some courageous inspiration she brought herself upon him. Then, poking him in the forehead she grinned, "Well, Ichigo! Since we're out here and all, I guess I _could_ let you treat me!"

She hurried off into the crowd, waving for him to follow. Ichigo, dumbfounded, ran after her, crying, "Wait!" She giggled, sticking her tongue out at him, feeling a youth she'd long ago abandoned. It was bright and sunny overhead... not a cloud in the sky.

* * *

"So I see..."

His deep voice permeated the table, kinetic energy flowing through the polished wood, rising up into Orihime's cup and making the dark black liquid ripple.

She never really was one for coffee. The smell roused her senses, but she preferred to avoid drinking it whenever possible. She didn't like bitter things, and couldn't understand how other people enjoyed it. For the matter, she found herself unable to look away.

Sado Yasutora, a schoolmate, held a large paper "tub" of the blackened substance. He brought it to his lips, closing his eyes and taking a deep sip. His face relaxed ever so slightly, his eyes twitching in a sort of flashback. It was clear that the giant was reliving his past. He let the strong flavor swill around in his mouth, opening the back of his mouth to let the piping hot solution dribble down his throat. He traced the lines they followed with his mind, losing himself in intense thought.

Orihime was sitting quietly, somewhat alienated. He opened an eye and extended an open palm, "Here, take one of these..." She stared blankly at a pamphlet emblazoned with strange lettering and bearing the symbol of a guitar on the front. In response to her quizzical glance, he placed it before her, "It's one of my jobs. I'm supposed to hand these out to anyone I see."

"Oh...?" she replied, disinterested. Much to her own dislike, she could not bring herself to take even the slightest interest in Sado's endeavors. She could feel his quiet stare reading her thoughts, turning her head away in defiance. His low chuckle, coupled with the scraping of his chair, served to effectively instill further guilt. She recoiled slightly as his callused hand patted her head.

"I'm not a dog," she explained, pouting. "Hmm..." he patted her shoulder, as if to aggravate the situation. Before she could issue a verbal retort, he smiled, "But dogs are cute. I like cute things."

"Anyway," he interposed a third time as she attempted to cut in some form of response, "I should be getting back to work now. Take the compliment however you like," and, not giving her time to stand, disappeared behind a large group of giggling girls. Orihime's glare of contempt seemed to fade somewhat. Her guilt grew ever larger. He was only trying to make her feel better. At any other time she knew she would have laughed. Yet, for some reason she was unable to bring about any of the liveliness she normally emanated.

"I should at least have asked him where he was working..." she said to herself, opening the pamphlet and reading through it. It was a concert by his "band". There were several different dates listed, many of them being open rehearsal sessions, in which others could stand around and listen to them practice. Come to think of it, she'd never heard Sado play. What kind of music did he like...? How well could he play? She knew only the Sado Yasutora that had fought alongside her in the past. What was he like when he was, well... _normal_?


	12. Segment XI: Thoughts in a Blender

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

The density of people in the main plaza had increased since their departure. A large sign now hung over the four corner openings. Tatsuki found it increasingly difficult to stay next to Ichigo. In particular, the east side of the plaza was very thick. Ichigo turned to her, "Do you have any idea what's going on?" She shrugged, glancing around. None of the signs in the area were large enough for her to read clearly. On top of all that, the level of noise was quickly rising.

"Excuse me..."

"Oh!" she felt something heavy shove her aside. The crowd was certainly getting rowdy. She could make out the blended cries of a name, but there were so many voices in the pandemonium that she could hardly make them out for herself. Ichigo seemed equally confused.

All of a sudden, the cheering grew to an all time high. Tatsuki covered her ears and leaned her head onto Ichigo's shoulder which, sensing her discomfort, slid backwards to allow her upon his chest. Ichigo, meanwhile, was more preoccupied with the event at hand. A loud and flashy stage voice shot forth from large speakers. The noise died down.

"Well! I thought we'd never start our practice session!"

Mild laughter, accompanied by a few excited shouts. Speaker feedback echoed along the different vices. A familiar grunt amongst the stage caught Ichigo's attention. He grinned...

Without warning, he got down on his knees. "Ichigo?!" Tatsuki nearly fell over with surprise, his hands grasping around her legs, "Haah! Wait, hang on!" He hoisted her up upon his back and into the the air, issuing a thumbs up and a grin. "Tell me, Tatsuki!" he yelled, raising a solid fist with vigor, "Who do you see on stage?!" She squinted. Music began to play.

"T-thats—!"

Standing in the center, adorned with his usual tee, Sado Yasutora stood strumming a mellow tune. She leaned forward, apologizing as Ichigo protested. He stood, holding a simple acoustic guitar. She blinked. He _did_ play bass. She noted the black and crimson axe hanging from a strap on his back. It was surprising that he could sound so good playing like this. She'd never seen his practices. Ichigo, however, seemed to know full well who he was.

She giggled. It was a nice tune. One of the other, softer looking "men", began singing. It was one of those warm, romantic tunes. Hearing it, she could not help to think of the soft young man below her. She had the sneaking suspicion he'd planned it this way, though judging from his reaction, he was just as surprised as she was. His hand was resting firmly upon her thigh. She blushed and squeezed his palm. He looked up, still smiling, his cheeks just as red.

* * *

Orihime stared from an empty window, her gaze reflecting one in deep thought. Behind her, the store was near empty. A good number of the customers inside the shop had wandered outside to listen to the music. As the crowd slowly dispersed, she found her mind helplessly stuck to the image of Ichigo's smile.

Packing together the band instruments, Sado Yasutora appeared to be sweating from the "practice session." She frowned. If that was practice, she didn't really feel very keen for the actual concert, especially if they were going to hold it here in the plaza. _These tickets..._ Her eyes fell on his sweaty brow; her fingers idly scratched the perforations upon two concert tickets. _He got these in advance... even the note..._ It sat there, tempting her to read it again, as if reading the simple message seven times hadn't been enough.

_Go with somebody you like—Sado_

It was so simple, and yet so complex. A soft voice in the back of her head nagged her. The phrase "somebody you like" translated directly to Ichigo. She felt relatively sure that that was the meaning implied. No, that was greedy of her. Still, she had an opportunity now, assuming Ichigo didn't already have plans on the set day.

_Fat chance_, she thought bitterly. She closed her eyes and concentrated, trying to force his image out from her head. It faded away, but what replaced it was far worse. Tatsuki... she felt no contempt towards the girl, yet she wanted to so badly.

For what reason Ichigo took interest in Tatsuki, she had little clue. In the past, she never noticed anything of an attraction between the two. For what one would have to assume it was natural to think that Ichigo might even hate her. True, the two were closely tied by their childhood and family backgrounds, and on more than one occasion had served as the basis for particularly affectionate moments between them... but still.

She couldn't get her mind off of the ring. It taunted her, dangling from a matching necklace, both gleaming with all its blue glory. A frown spread along her soft face...

Something was pressing against her chest. She looked up, sensing a heavy stare. Sitting on the edge of the stage with a handkerchief in hand, Sado's dark eyes were fixed forward. He was looking at her... She felt something pop. No, he wasn't. He couldn't be. She was too hidden to be seen, and she never said she'd attend the practice. Maybe he was reading the sign. She thought of peering around the corner to look, thought better of it, and moved away from the window.

In the back of her mind, that passioned stare and powerful aura would cling adamantly, the name "Sado Yasutora" securely stored in a mental safe...

* * *

By now the sun had completely set, the darkness of night mixing in with the unusually bright lights of the town. Tatsuki found herself captivated by the soft afterglow of twilight as it intertwined with that of a large neon sign. The breeze was nice... refreshing. The brisk air brought her to a more exciting place. Modern-Celtic music vibrated in the background, adding a foreign feel to the atmosphere. By all means this was a dinner date if she had ever seen one.

"Enjoying the night?"

Prompted by her name, Tatsuki turned to a sleepy-faced boy, whose eyes were doggedly trained upon hers. No... this was no boy. This was Ichigo. She felt very faint, as if having only woken from a nice dream. Ichigo, too, seemed to have been fantasizing himself. She blushed, sensing what was on his mind. Not quite what she expected, but still far too new for her to feel casually for it.

In her search for a diversion she switched her attention to the ring, now snugly fitted around her finger. His fingers eased their way into her palm and intertwined with her hand. At the momentary transference of that mild electrical current that all living things used she cringed... recoiling...

Living things thrived on electricity, with or without technology... The brain, so sophisticated, was capable of sending electrical signals, which controlled every part of the body: arms and legs; facial expressions; breathing; the heart... Even thoughts were the result of electrical signals: happiness, joy; disappointment, anger; affection... love... She had a feeling that it was Ichigo who had taught her that... perhaps on one of their study sessions.

Now she was straying away. Biology and love were different, even if related. In her absence of being, she had instinctively gripped his palm. "So," she began, "Lunch, a plaza performance, shopping... You even took me to the fair. What's next?" He flashed her a devilish grin, "Oh... I don't know... _This and that_ I suppose." Her chest pulsed. She was quick to distance their hands, "_Not_ funny, Ichigo!" Again, he scratched his head, chuckling like a mischievous prankster, "Oh, you _pervert_! Is that what you've had your mind on this whole time?!"

"H-hey! That's supposed to be my line!"

Hey eyes cast themselves upon his jovial face. Even if it was a joke, she felt embarrassed to be considering such a topic. He sighed off the last few laughs, taking her hand again, "But hey—" she had an inkling that he had read her mind again, "—we can take these things one step at a time right?" So he did understand. Even though it was obvious, it made that much of a difference seeing for herself how romantically mature he was. Just then, a waiter returned and notified them that the necessary transactions had been made.

With a grateful bow, they made their way out of the restaurant. The afterglow was gone by now, replaced by the auriferous purple of distant cities. Ahead of them was the park, the western styled street laps glowing in the leafy abyss. Now the cold air was too cold. She shivered and leaned against Ichigo's shoulder.

"Strange..."

"Hmm...?" he looked up.

"It's too... _weird_..."

"How so?"

"Think about it. Five days ago, I was preoccupied with my studies."

"Do you regret any of it?"

"Well, no... it's just," she hesitated, unsure how to coin her thought, "it's just that I've been so casual about all this." She looked up at Ichigo and raised a half-joking eyebrow, "You sure you didn't drug me or something?"

In silence he turned away and leaned upon the railing, gazing off into the distance. She watched him, noticing where their feet had led them. After several moments she followed to his side, her hands admiring the old miniature bridge.

Come to think of it, Ichigo actually laughed. He even joked with her, of all things, about such a topic. Ichigo... changed. There were a lot of things different about him now. She couldn't remember a single time they had ever spent together where he'd ever seemed so... "happy". Carefree... that's what it was. She could feel it too. It was contagious, those warm feelings. And yet it was all just so hard to believe. _Ichigo_, she thought, _have you... always been like this?_ Like he had saved these special smiles and laughs for someone... Like he had been waiting for the right person to show them to... So, since they were here, that meant that this person, the one he had been waiting for all this time... it was—

"Umm, Tatsuki?"

Ichigo extended a small parcel along the rough balustrade, blushing with a familiar timidity, "I, uh... well, we got so caught yesterday so..." Without waiting for her reply, he opened it and exposed the blue earrings. Instinctively she wrapped her arms loosely around her back in response to his touch. After a minute of awkward fumbling, he finally got them on, arching back and viewing the spectacle for himself.

"It's beautiful..."

She felt her heart pounding, a certain spark igniting a smoldering remain. He whispered something into her ear. She couldn't hear it... only the warmth of his breath against her cold, swollen earlobe. Her frame shuddered in his strong arms. She groaned out a starved cry. The park was empty, but for two teenagers tightly locked together under an amber crescent moon.


	13. Segment XII: Reverie

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

It was raining in broad daylight. The sun was stunningly bright today. The high winds felt soothing through the long locks of hair. Everything was alight, as particles of light gleamed off of the innumerable raindrops. Orihime felt overwhelmed by the dazzling sparkles, her eyes darting left and right until she grew dizzy. 

A soft tugging drew her back to reality. She looked down from her cardboard pedestal. "Nyah!" was the reply to her long stare. A warmth filled her chest, spreading to her fingers and toes. "Momo," she smiled and knelt down, cupping her hand around the ragged head of a gray and white kitten. In the shade of the bridge's access corridor, a cool rain-soaked breeze played across the concrete. From it came the scent of sunflowers...

Not that sunflowers had scent. She giggled aloud, attracting the attention of the residents of this shelter. Another, much younger girl, perhaps of ten or eleven, looked up from a magazine. She wore a tattered pink tank, her hair hanging lazily over her eyes. "Hehe," the child sat up upon a torn up cardboard mat, "Having fun with the cats?" Orihime grinned sheepishly, stroking the tiny creature in her hands. The girl pulled a few strands of her chestnut hair from her eye, stood up, and approached two other, larger cats.

"Hakutou, Ootoo," she beckoned, each one looking up respectively. Sitting out on the edge of the retainers, the a silhouette jerked in mocking laughter. "Makoto-kun!" Orihime scolded. The boy arched his back, rolling his head further so he could view the elder child with prankster's malice. "Oh, and you can't laugh at a girl who name cats "White Peach" and "Yellow Peach?" he sneered, popping a candy into his mouth.

"_Na-ne_ is at fault for picking bad names!"

"Ma-kun!"

The boy simply sucked on his candy drop, turning back to the running waters in ignorance of his surroundings. With malicious enthusiasm, the noise of teeth and hard candy crushing together echoed in the dimly lighted service corridor. Sensing it would be pointless to aggravate Makoto, Orihime turned to Natsuki and offered some candy drops. With an bright and innocent grin she accepted, picking out a red wrapper and putting the entire thing in her mouth.

Those smiles never failed to make her shudder. The way to persevered through such hardship was touching, indeed, and she felt guilty for being unable to relieve them fully of their pain. But she knew that if she mentioned this, they would tell her they were happy. And by all means they probably were...

These were her "children, and this dank place, her "home." For the past month she came in and out of this place, each time bringing fresh food and clean linens to sleep in. All they seemed to need was her happy smile, this "family" of hers... She looked at each one of them in turn.

Now, Natsuki slowly peeled the wrapper out from her mouth, waving it around proudly. She was the elder of the two, taller, stronger... Her skin, in contrast to the daily ardor they put themselves through from day to day, was pale white. Her limbs were thin, but tight. She looked to be in middle school, possibly, though she herself had confessed not knowing her own age, or birthday for that matter. She had long hair, much like Orihime's, which she let hang freely as it pleased. There was a strong, maternal instinct in her.

Her brother, Makoto, was the younger. Orihime could easily place him in grade school, perhaps his first year in middle school. Unlike his sister he was very dark, his skin burned from long hours in the sun. He wore shorts, frayed and far too big for his person. However, around this he wore a cherished belt, for reasons he refused to explain. In many ways he reminded her of Jinta, with his honest and overly aggressive nature. But those days were long gone now.

This was the family she hoped to have one day. She often imagined fun picnics at the park, trips to the beach, and visits to the mall. Hand in hand she, Natsuki, and Makoto would go everywhere. And standing next to her, picking up his son and laughing with the bunch, would be...

She frowned. The rain had stopped, and the sky had darkened somewhat. Makoto gazed at her in silence, the gears in his head visibly turning. The kitten, Momo, wriggled through her arms and leapt onto the floor.

"Mama...?"

"Uh... um?" she blinked, torn away from her reverie. Makoto looked away, scoffing with mild disgust, "Orihime-san is thinking about that boy again." Silence... Orihime found herself unable to speak. She wasn't sure if she was dreaming. But then... perhaps it was coincidence... The orange-haired "runt" that now defiantly ignored her presence also reminded her of Ichigo.

"Mama, what's wrong?" Natuski peered over her shoulder, her expression softening. Orihime turned around and sighed. "It's nothing..." she whispered quietly, wrapping her arms around her thin frame.

"I was just thinking..."

"About who?"

"Someone very special, Natsuki."

"You mean... papa?"

Orihime could not help but to laugh. A bitter smile wrought itself onto her face. "Yes," she exhaled deeply, wiping a tear from her eye, "I'd like to think he would appreciate that name..." Makoto's sandals scraped along the concrete. His cold eyes looked into Orihime's,

"Shouldn't you be going home? It's starting to get late..."

He cast his gaze aside, as if irritated by her presence alone. Natsuki stood up and crossed her arms. "Ma-kun!" she yelled, "That's not a nice thing to say!" He scoffed again, unperturbed by his elder sister's sternness. But Orihime stood up and bowed,

"No, no... it _is_ getting to be that time," she bent down and picked up her bag.

* * *

Gold and brown flashed into his eyes, blinding the tall man momentarily. Before him the road stretched on in an endless expanse. He closed his fist tightly around the coin and sighed. Entropy... that's what it was. He could feel it crawling into his skin... the degrading stench of purposelessness. Feh... of all words to use. If Ichigo could see him now...

He couldn't get it out of his head. It had pervaded his nostrils and rooted itself there. Strawberries... the strong scent of strawberry perfume.

"Oh! S-Sado-kun...!"

His foot stopped in midair, commanded by the soft voice that rang so loudly in his ears. He turned around slowly and stared. After a long time, he spoke the name so firmly etched into his brain...

"Orihime...!"


	14. Segment XIII: Prelude

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

"It looks like it's getting pretty bad out there..." Sado sat down in calm resignation, assigning his guitar to the couch cushion next to him. His breath formed clouds of snowy white condensation before his nose. Orihime stood in front of the thermostat, adjusting the temperature settings. She'd left the window open before leaving her house, and in the cold weather it had grown as frigid as the outside. Given that, it didn't appear that Orihime had even been home often as of late. He glanced at the long-haired girl with reluctant curiousity.

The long-haired girl felt herself grimace under his watchful stare. Above her head, rain was striking like bullets onto the roof. Her hair was just slightly damp, but to the point where she had to open her closet and pull out a few towels, both for herself and for Sado. He thanked her in his usual silent way and resumed observing her as she strode into the kitchen. Then, complete quiet, other than the tapping of raindrops.

"W-well...! I suppose you feel a bit hungry? You did say you didn't have lunch!"

Sado looked away, somewhat struck by the blatantly forced nature of her offer. Even as he felt inclined to take up her offer, thoughts of her "cuisine" began to float around in his head. He said nothing, half hoping she would call his name again, half hoping she would simply go somewhere else... This was her house though. He chortled on the inside at such an absurd request. To have someone leave their own home for personal comfort...

"T-the concert," he blurted out, "Are you going?" Orihime was already heating up water on the stove. He observed the silence, somewhat out of shame. Perhaps she hadn't heard him. Against the backdrop of the rain it might be easy to mistake a voice for... no. She had definitely heard him. She was just thinking of how to answer him now. In accordance with his prediction, she took a long look at him and shook her head, frowning, "I wouldn't really know who to ask..." He felt the impulse to stand up, but suppressed it. Was she testing him?

"I think Tatsuki is going to be busy, and I don't know anyone else who would be interested... Uryuu certainly wouldn't want to go," she continued, chopping carrots on the counter.

He felt it again. The urge to stand up and suggest the one person she refused to name. His abrupt start and stop of movement caught her eye. She set down her knife and glared at him, expecting him to open his mouth. For the longest time they remained silent, the atmosphere sliced only by the rhythmical continuation of her cooking. The ticking of the clock felt unbearable.

"You can say it if you want," she said, finally, as she poured the carrots into the steaming pot.

Sado looked away again, once more unable to look her straight in the face. _She's being uncharacteristically perceptive_, he thought to himself, _it's quite her_. The expression she wore on her face bespoke an unexpectedly ravenous nature. She was after something... he felt sure of it. He could not speak the name, lest he incur some form of new wrath from Orihime's normally childlike face.

"Those tickets..."

He looked up at her again, drawn by her voice.

"The dates are different. You bought them at different times," she dumped the contents of a red back into the pot, "didn't you?" His grunt confirmed her suspicions. She turned to the sink and began to wash a variety of items.

"Hey!" she clapped her hands together and grinned in that childlike way, "So, I never knew you could be so good with a guitar!" "W-well I," Sado stuttered, lost for words and this unexpected one-eighty. He looked at the metal strings on his bass, chuckling.

\"How long have you been playing?" she cocked her head sideways.

"Since I was little," he sighed, closing his eyes and remembering.

"Well, the only instrument I can play is a kazoo," she looked up at the ceiling, lost in another one of her odd tangents, "It makes a funny buzzing feeling in your lips!" As she continued on he listened with his full focus, smiling a little bit inside. He always forgot how sensitive Orihime was. Even if, at times, she could seem a little air-headed, she never failed to respond the right way. That side of her was good to be around.

But it also made him a little bit sad. She was cute... _very_ cute. But if you dug in deep enough you could get a glimpse of a closed off girl. There were a lot of facets in her personality that were fabricated. He doubted if even Tatsuki knew all of her fronts. To think that, given what he knew of this girls, he, Sado Yasutora was...

"Look! I've been learning how to make professional ramen!"

The clatter of a relatively large bowl brought him back to Orihime's greeting room. Before him sat a steamy pool of chicken broth, large noodles swirling together with back fat in a beautiful arrangement of crisp vegetables. He gaped, unsure what to make of it. As it glistened in the distant light of the kitchen he found himself wondering if Orihime had always cooked this good.

"A friend started teaching me how to cook! She even showed me which condiments I can put on mine!!!" Orihime demonstrated as she put a little bit of bean jam on her noodles. Then she assumed an oddly masculine pose. "One of these days," she copied with an amusingly mocking tone, "you're going to end up poisoning yourself with what you eat!" Sado recognized instantly whom she was referring to.

"Ms. Arisawa, right?"

At this she fell silent. Nodding quietly, she turned to her bowl of noodles and began eating vigorously. Odd... at the mention of her best friend she seemed... crestfallen. Now was perhaps no better a time as when he had any opportunity,

"Why don't you invite Ichigo?"

She set her bowl down and looked out the window, her face reflecting one deep in thought. Or perhaps it was the bitter taste of the vegetables, that incited his own memory to flow through his mind. She did appear to be reminiscing...

Outside, the rain was beginning to clear up. It was but a drizzle now, more than suitable for a convenient leave. He exhaled deeply, draining the remaining contents of his bowls, and taking his guitar into his arms. "It looks like I can go now," he explained, "so I'll be taking my leave. Thank you for the... _nice_ meal." He bowed in silenced and disappeared through the door. Behind him, Orihime's empty gaze tightened a noose around his chest.

"Ichigo..." she whispered softly...


	15. Segment XIV: Tension

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

At times he felt his body dwindling away... It was particularly strong during the night, when he found himself unable to resist the allure of sleep. He could feel his spirit seeping away into that dark abyss... that evil place where no one dared to go of their own free will. When he sank his consciousness into that place he could be alone to think. Ironically enough, it was the one place which he dreaded going to most.

Soft... that's what his fingers were telling him. From his vantage point he could view her beautiful face perfectly. Her pale white skin seemed to suck the sunlight in, glowing with a quiet and reserved sort of energy. Her mouth was slightly ajar, her gentle breath tossing up her bangs. To say that she was pretty was the worst of his comments. She was gorgeous... and she was his.

With this sentiment in mind, he amorously began to caress her cheek, stroking her skin with his knuckle and smiling. In response to his touch she groaned, absentmindedly swatting at his hand and rolling to the side. He exhaled, resigning himself to her hair again. His eyes wandered to the rising sun over the horizon. The faint scent of lilac perfume intermingled with sweat. If this were any other moment he would be admitting aloud how wild the idea drove him.

"..." Ichigo felt something tug at his hand. He glanced down again and chuckled. From Tatsuki's lips he made out of the indistinct mumbling of his name. She kicked her legs and rolled back to her original position, as if dreaming. Her fingers closed around his wrist, her palm pressing up against his vein. With his free hand, he caressed her wrist.

"Hnnnn..." her eyes fluttered open. He watched her look around, absorbing her surroundings. She looked from the rough generic white plastered wall, to the similarly uniformed ceiling. When her eyes fell upon Ichigo, she fell still. After several moments, she sat up and rubbed the flakes from her eyes.

When Tatsuki could see clearly, she gazed further upon Ichigo's face. Visions of the previous night returned to her, and she felt her face grow hot. A sleepy smile broke across her face. "Was I like that all night...?" she asked him shyly, looking down at her ruffled clothing.

"Did you sleep well...?" he asked her, still holding her wrist as she had taken his. She nodded slowly, holding a blanket to her body, as if reluctant to show herself. At this he turned to the sunlight, pointing with an invigorated stare,

"Look...!"

She looked. Indeed it was a sight worth looking at. Yet all she could see were the sun's rays reflecting off of Ichigo's face. She could feel her legs tingling slightly. Here she was, sitting with what could be equated to as a god, or so she felt. This was no god... but she felt compelled to follow him as if he were. Cold as he may appear at times, and detached as he tried to be, these very moments in which his warmth touched her were things she hoped would never go away.

The god looked at her. She turned away, apologizing silently. It felt wrong to look at Ichigo with eyes of lust...

He squeezed her hand tightly, "You're a glutton, y'know that...?" She giggled, leaning backward as he arched over her, "A glutton am I...? Well what does that make you?" He stroked her cheek tenderly and bent over her shoulder. "Whatever you want me to be, babe..." he whispered, nibbling her ear lobe. Tatsuki shuddered violently and fell into his arms. She grimaced, feeling hot liquids pooling between her legs.

"What was the point of redressing me if we were just going to do it again...?" she murmured mockingly, her breath now abrupt wheezes and gasps.

"Maybe I like undressing you," he groaned as her nails dug into his back, "For that matter, aren't you the one who came on to me...?" he asked, sucking harder on her neck. As his hand dug into her shirt, she began to unbutton her pants again...

* * *

"It's really not my thing..."

"Well, I think you'd do great," Ichigo didn't so much as glance over his shoulder. As he finished putting up the bright red banner, he reached down for another one. "What does your band think about it?" he repeated his earlier statement. Sado Yasutora shook his head, "It's not a... _popular_ topic." Ichigo noted the emphasis on the word "popular".

Earlier that morning, Ichigo received a phone call from Sado, asking him to help out with an event. Now he was here, working in the plaza to put up some publicity ads for a gig Sado's band was doing. For the last half-an-hour Ichigo and Sado debated over submitting some content to a record company or television show. It was amusing now how Sado suddenly wanted to get rid of him.

Then again, when Ichigo greeted him on the phone, he _had_ sounded like he had a certain topic in mind. Even so, if he wanted to say something he should have already done so. Ichigo shrugged the feeling off, deciding for himself that if Sado had something important to say he would listen only if Sado came out with it. Then it struck him.

"Hey, Chad."

Sado looked up and raised an eyebrow. "This concert..." Ichigo seemed to be sorting out his schedule in his head, "It's the 15th, right?" His friend nodded in confirmation, "Why? Do you want to go?"

"Maybe... Umm, hey. How much would two tickets cost?"

"Well," Sado raised his other brow now, "The mall asked us to sell tickets in packs of two for couples... If you bought those then you'd get a twenty-five percent discount." Ichigo's cheeks turned a subtle pink, "N-no thanks. I'll go for two regular tickets, if you don't mind."

"Who are you thinking of inviting?"

"A friend..." now it was Ichigo's turn to be puzzled, "Why are you interested?"

Without giving Ichigo time to breath, Sado turned around, "Is it Orihime?" Ichigo blinked, "Err... Inoue?" He gave it a moment's thought. There was a certain _undertone_ in Sado's voice, almost as if the man were obligating him to say yes. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but it was atypical of his normally unbiased nature. No point in burying a skeleton you couldn't find, he sighed, "Well, no... not exactly."

"If not her, then who else could you possibly want to invite...?" Sado was beginning to seem aggressive now. Ichigo backed away. Now his friend was tense. With reluctance he finished his thought, "...Kuchiki?" This was not at all what Ichigo had expected to hear. At the same time, he didn't like where Sado was going with the topic. Now the two eyed each other with malice. For a moment, Ichigo forgot just where he was.

"Oh! Kurosaki-san! Yasutora-san!" A small, awkward looking boy dressed in his school uniform stood between the two, looking left and right. A minute passed in silence, the strange spectacle grinning nervously, "D-did I... come at a bad time?"

Ichigo was the first to recognize him. "Mizuiro!" he exclaimed, "What are _you_ doing here?" Mizuiro Kojima chuckled, "I could probably ask the same of you two. You _never_ come to the plaza unless your family forces you to." Ichigo glanced back at Sado, both sharing a look of disgust, in addition to a mutual agreement of silence. Personal matters were personal, and nothing could change it.

"Well," Mizuiro's voice broke the stiff silence once more, "I've got a date, if you two don't mind." He cleared his throat and indicated that they were blocking the pathway into the food court. As he squeezed through them, he gave them a quick wave before turning to an older woman sitting beneath a weeping cherry blossom tree, book in hand. Ichigo shook his head and sighed, "That Mizuiro..." Sado checked his watch before looking up at Ichigo, "We're about done here... I can finish the rest on my own." Ichigo understood that voice. Frankly, he was in no mood to argue. As he sauntered off, Sado called after him, "You can buy tickets at the bookstore. They shouldn't be too expensive, so don't worry about the price." Ichigo didn't so much as glance over his shoulder...


	16. Segment XV: Confrontation

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

Perhaps this was how it felt to be hung over... The only way to describe such feelings of pain were lost now. The city lights seemed to be laughing at him, growing and shrinking with each and every heartbeat. All around him, sounds seem to melt into an odd little blur.

His legs gave way beneath him. As he fell, a pair of this arms gripped him from behind. A mutter, and the sensation of his feet being dragged along the ground. Then his vision faded away...

* * *

When Sado awoke, it was cold. Very cold, and dark. He could feel something hot sitting upon his stomach. A blanket? No, too small. It was compact and somewhat heavy for a blanket. There was something flapping upon his face. He opened his eyes.

Sitting up alertly, he removed a strip of paper taped to his nose. Some bystanders gave him an odd glance, while a few "fans" gave off amused giggles or chuckles. He lowered his raised fist, shaking his head as if to throw off this dizzy spell. The note... He read it several times over:

_Stay here until I get back — Karin Kurosaki_

"Karin..." he muttered aloud. A white styrofoam box lay on its side, knocked over from his battle habits. On it scribbled in black marker was a smiley-face of young girl—Ichigo's sister, Karin. He could not help but to laugh. It was perhaps so unorthodox and out of character of the girl that he doubted in the back of his mind that it was really her. What had he been doing before he'd passed out? He couldn't remember where he'd been before he drew close to fainting.

"So I see you're awake."

He looked up. A young girl wearing a red collar and white shorts, tipped her matching baseball cap as if it were a top hat. He resisted, but fell victim to a generously warm smile. "I'm surprised you even bothered waiting for me," she righted the container and poked it open, glancing at the disheveled contents, "If you didn't like it you didn't have to chuck it."

Karin sighed, having fancied that she would return to an empty carton and not a sloppy mess. She picked one of the oily noodles between her fingers and dropped it into her mouth. Then her eyes fell upon Sado, now glancing worriedly at the clock. "Yeah," she counted her fingers, "You've been out since about six-thirty." It was now nine in the evening. Without replying, Sado nodded apologetically and quickly started for the exit.

"Hold it!" she grabbed his collar, only slightly lifting off of the ground as he turned to look back at her. "Have seen Ichigo lately?" she started picking up after the uneaten food. He blinked, "Ichigo?" "Yeah," she heaved a worried sigh, "He's been disappearing for good portions of the day lately. Yuzu is starting to get worried, and father keeps spreading rumors about him seeing a girl." She noted his cautious glance both left and right, as well as the considerable time he spent choosing his words.

"Well..." he started. But before he could finish, Karin interrupted, "Has he been hanging around Orihime and Tatsuki lately?"

"_I've_ been the one with Orihime," he ignored Karin's raised eyebrow, "But last I saw Ichigo, the three were together in the plaza." It was a lie, and he knew it.

"So he _has_ been with Tatsuki then?"

"Well... yeah," he felt hurried to leave. Shoving the carton into his arms, Karin hurried off into the crowd without another word. His neck felt itchy. She seemed out of character today, that Karin... _And she mentioned only Tatsuki_, he observed. What of Orihime? Then again, it was true that the only time he'd seen the three together was the plaza. So Orihime had essentially been alone for most of her summer up until now. If so, what was Ichigo doing with Tatsuki?

The clock began to gong. "Tch!" he grunted in frustration, dashing in another direction. Trivial matters could wait until another time. There were more important things on his mind.

* * *

"There's nothing to worry about!"

"But you're never home anymore! First you shut yourself in your room and now you aren't even in it at all!"

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

Loud thuds echoed from the hollow staircase. The table was set, piled high with steaming, but uneaten food. Still fizzling on the stove, the beginning of a blended dish was starting to burn. Yuzu Kurosaki stood with her arm latched along the doorway and her other hand clutching a ladle. Her elder brother, Ichigo stood at the foot of the stairs, bluntly refusing to look at his sibling.

"I know you sneak out at night! And sometimes when I come home I hear voices in your room! How do I know she hasn't come back?!"

"Because she just _hasn't_ okay?! Leave me alone!"

"Ichigo!"

The door slammed shut, the walls vibrating by sheer force. She cringed in shock and surprise. Yuzu took a breath, recollecting herself and preparing to fire back. As she opened her mouth the speak, the front door slowly swung open and closed. "That kid..."

"Oh!" Yuzu scrambled to catch a bag of shrimps and a jar of alfredo sauce. "He never learns does he?" Karin began striding up the stairs. "Wait!" Yuzu looked left and right, searching for a clean surface by which to relieve herself of her ingredients, "You shouldn't do that! I think he's really mad this time!" Karin shook her head, "When a child goes bad you have to straighten him out yourself. I'll talk to him for you, Yuzu."

"But!" she turned to a large pile, her father, "Don't you think dad should—"

"You know as well as I that putting dad in a room with an angry Ichigo in it is a bad combination," Karin vanished around the corner, leaving Yuzu to deal with the fire alarm.

* * *

"Hey... Ichigo..."

He tried to block the noise out with his pillow. Karin began to rap loudly on his door. "Ichigo..." she repeated, emphasizing each syllable. At last she could take no more of it. Cracking her knuckles together, she raised her foot and launched it forward. The resulting crash forced Ichigo to look up. As Karin stood in the doorway with a reprimanding expression, Ichigo tossed his gaze aside.

"Is this about Rukia?" Ichigo scowled in an all too familiar manner.

Her severe expression silenced the air. "Far from," she scoffed, "Or you'll end up far less angry at me when I walk out of this room..."


	17. Segment XVI: Seltzer Water

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

She'd been correct in her prediction: he _would have preferred_ it if her interrogation had concerned his memories. He could only vaguely recall just how harshly she picked at his soft spots, due to the mental imprint he'd left behind to prevent himself from experiencing it a second time, save against his own will. She knew... damn girl. He figured he'd have to come clean at some point, but he didn't think it would be this soon. At this point, if he returned home he would have to explain himself. Was he ready? The moment he asked himself this question he heard the answer echo raucously in the corners of his mind.

Yuzu, for one, would probably pushed over the limit. It was enough that she worried about him, add to that the stress of days gone by, and then to hear that he, Ichigo, was having an affair with a girl he'd never even dated until recently. Not to mention the endless routes to disaster should his father hear him admit it aloud.

But where would he go? He glanced down at his body, shaking his head. "Damn!" he cursed, "I should have at least put on a jacket." With only a t-shirt and a pair of overly worn jeans, he would probably catch something sleeping outside. If he snuck into his room his father would surely hear him. There was little to no chance of him going anywhere near his own home, without being caught before he was ready to confess.

Chad's house was most likely out of the question. After the mild row they had earlier that day he doubted Chad would be the most accommodating of his nature. Orihime was... well. He didn't want to stay there. Better to catch cold than contract food poisoning or something. He grimaced as he imagined it. Of course, the last option he had then, was Tatsuki's house.

Of all places to stay, she was the only host who would let him inside without question, and he would probably feel the most comfortable there. Come to think of it, how many times had he actually _been_ to Tatsuki's house? Not many, that was for sure. He didn't feel all that strongly to knocking on her door out of the blue either. It just wasn't culture.

_Culture..._ He snorted. Standing in the middle of a neighborhood parking, dressed in clothes that easily passed him on as a homeless man, Ichigo Kurosaki, the Karakura Town's most depressing man, was considering what was or wasn't "culture". What did he actually care? It was foolproof. He could stay until he knew just how to confront his family with his... "marital status". Meanwhile, he would be with the girl he'd been in love with all of his life.

Confident now, Ichigo started walking forward. In the back of his mind, however, he knew that his reasoning was nothing more than a front. Shelved away, he prayed silently to himself that he would never have to confront that darkness ever again...

* * *

Somehow she envisioned the idea of crickets chirping under a crescent moon to be a little more romantic. Ethereal was perhaps one of the furthest off adjective she could ever apply to the situation. Orihime, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying her little camping expedition.

Spread over the general area of her bedroom, two small tents formed a sort of camp, a miniature heating appliance casting its hot red glow over the synthetic green insulation. Impaled upon its partner stick, Orihime's marshmallow began sagging over the wooden fibers. She giggled, her indication that it was just right, and began gnawing into her stave, making sure to suck out every bit. Tatsuki looked on quietly, mixed emotions of guilt and longing flooding into her chest. Orihime's irresistible charm forced a gentle smile to her face.

The only thing Tatsuki could really focus on was the one thing that connected her with Orihime in the outside world: Ichigo. Promises aside, Ichigo was probably the only thing Orihime cared about more than Tatsuki herself. She didn't hold any of that against her friend. Not once in the duration of their friendship had she ever held that again. Friendship was friendship, and love was... _love_.

No, that wasn't any excuse. It was true that Orihime would do her best to understand, so hiding the fact wasn't the most honorable thing to do. Hell, none of this was right in the first place. She sighed and stared up at the moon, which was gone now, hidden by clouds. It was symbolic, in a way: just as the cloud had suddenly disappeared from view, so had her perception of her life entirely. None of this was normal... It never had been. But sometimes she wished that, maybe just once she could—

"I'll get it," she stood up, stealing a marshmallow from between Orihime's fingers as she passed by. She burst into laughter at the sound of a raspberry. In light of their merriment, she failed to peer through the peephole.

Orihime's head poked into the transition corridor, her eyes lighting up at the sigh in the doorway. Ichigo seemed to be equally shocked. Tatsuki was at a loss for words...

"Well, good night!" Orihime giggled amorously toward Ichigo. Tatsuki raised an eyebrow, issuing a mildly unfriendly good-night-wave. He smiled sheepishly, his eyes apologetic. Orihime, for one, was of the type to believe the lie he'd invented on the spot. The lights went out. The heating lamp projected an eerie glow into the room. Ichigo shifted his position on the couch.

In the darkness he could barely make out the green outlines of adhesive glowing stars. He let out a throat chuckle. Orihime was probably the one who put them there. "A camping trip, huh...?" he whispered, lips closed.

When was the last time he'd ever gone camping? He had no memories of his first camping trip. There were a few pictures in the old, discarded photo albums hidden away in his home. It had been before Yuzu and Karin were born. Those were the days... The days when his mother had still been alive. If she were still alive, he wondered how he would introduce her to Tatsuki.

Now that he looked at them them, there was something strange. Ichigo's eyes were quickly adjusting to the obscurity. He blinked. The stars were blue, not green. He sat up quietly, glancing over in Tatsuki's direction. She was facing towards the opposite wall, her legs visibly sprawled out from the other end of her tent. As he looked her body up and down, she rolled to the other side. It took some effort to suppress a snort.

In silence he hoisted his limbs up and off of the couch. Ichigo braced the sides of the window frame, crawling through the opening. He noted the time on the clock: 11:08. Considering that Orihime had been asleep for an hour, he doubted she would wake up any time soon.

For now he would have to figure out a way to explain Tatsuki to his family. Given all that was happening, it would either set a lot of things in the right direction, or completely blow up his life. The way his life was, he was willing to bet money on the latter outcome. He stroked his chin, laughing to himself again. His mother...

"Oh, is my couch not good enough for you to sleep on?"

Ichigo shook his head. No evidence of a smile here. Not even close. This was just another one of those days, one of those long-missed moments where he could be serious. He didn't like being serious...


	18. Segment XVII: Mind Reading

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

If nature had any sense of mercy, now was probably not one of those times. Incredibly enough, it was raining. As memory served, there was, in all likelihood, "little to no chance of any midnight storms". Ichigo looked to Tatsuki, who smiled back as if to say "it's not that bad".

Frankly he didn't really care. Or at least he wouldn't normally. Right now he did. It was strange, he realized as he persistently escorted Tatsuki to the edge of the roof. Was he worried about her? Of course he was... Stranger still... the fact that he was questioning his own affections towards her. Then again, that was just typical of an off-the-shelf Ichigo.

Tatsuki sighed, "So how do you plan to explain it all to them?"

Even as he started speculating, his words became lost in her beauty. There was no good way to break this kind of news to his folks. And he would be rejecting his own family if he hid the fact. She noticed his long and empty gaze.

"It's not like you..."

"What, you mean the stars?"

"Yeah..."

She blushed and turned away, "And yet you never even mentioned them while I was still 'awake'..." "It was embarrassing for you," he apologized, "I know..." There was no hint of confirmation in her response. He knew it was an excuse just as much as she did. Still, she didn't seem to be upset. Of course she wasn't.

"This is just too damn weird..."

"I would think that you'd be able to read Inoue's mind."

"Well—no... n-not really..."

"So you've never been in love before...?" Ichigo laughed confidently, almost as if to make fun of her. Now it was her turn, "We've been over this before, Ichigo..." Hell, his excuse had been far better. His expression seemed a foreboding assent to her mental comment. There was just one question on her mind that she wanted to ask...

"When you..."

She hesitated, unsure how to speak her mind. Regardless, Ichigo answered the question,

"Would you be angry at me if I said no...?"

No, she wouldn't be angry. Even as she whispered this silent confession, her eyes sparkled with a refreshed sort of lust. It was his turn to blush as Tatsuki looked on longingly, and perhaps with a little shame. It wasn't surprising that Ichigo had had affairs with other women. Frankly, she would have been surprised if he hadn't, perhaps a little shocked.

"Is it bad if that," she grasped his hand tentatively, "turns me on a little bit...?" He made no comment. There was no comment to make. He retreated weakly, letting his own vulnerabilities expose themselves. The funny thing to Tatsuki was the word she ascribed to his thought: "vulnerabilities". There was only one such weakness to speak off. It rolled off the tip of his tongue. She caught it upon her own, returning it to him transformed. Even though he was the weak one, it was she who groaned. With a certain urgency she bared her flesh to Ichigo, who took it in his palm hungrily.

Meanwhile, the rain faded away into silence, the sky suddenly becoming bright with dry lightning. Ichigo pushed her away, bursting into nervous laughter, "We shouldn't do this here..." His eyes rose up to what would be her bedroom. She blushed realizing where they were. As if to emphasize he explained their situation. He was rationalizing it to himself, she knew. But even though he was the one pacifying his own libido, she was perhaps in no better of a situation.

There was something about revelations that make them very pleasant. Maybe it was that renewed sense of well-being, or possibly it was getting an answer to a question you really wanted to have answered.

"You've really changed, Ichigo."

Tatsuki's voice made him shudder. It was sultry, sexy, and above all things indicative of her lust. He rubbed the back of his neck, his throat dry. "So have you." "How so?" a smile spread across her face, that enticing grin of hers, "Or are you referring to my breasts?" Crimson: those were the color of his cheeks. Yes, he had indeed noticed. "They've, um... grown," was his uneasy reply. She slapped his cheek lightheartedly and giggled, "I like this Ichigo. The other one is so much more depressing."

"What was wrong with the old one?"

She giggled even more, "Well, the old one would probably never say something like 'they've grown". And the old Ichigo would probably never let me do... this." Her fingers crawled around his neck, and with gusto she kissed him affectionately, playfully biting his tongue. The tall, well-built frame suddenly writhed from the stimulating.

He sighed. It was a deep sigh. The kind of sigh that one gave out when he or she was satisfied. _My, she's frisky tonight_, he thought to himself...

* * *

They were dark, sharply contrasting the bright night. There were no sparkles in her eyes now. Orihime lay on the couch, far from her tent. She was face down, her nose pressed hard into the pillow. Ichigo had lain his head here. Possessively she held the pillow in her arms, inhaling his fragrance, taking in the aroma of a man who wrought of musk and sweat.

She shivered uncontrollably, a tear slipping down from her eyes. None of this was how she wanted it to be. She felt sick, disgusting... What she was doing now was nothing more than a concentrated expression of her intense lust. Was this all that she was? But what more could she do? It was the only stimulation she really had. At least, it was now, now that _this_ had happened. She groaned softly, sliding her tongue between her teeth and biting it.

No, this was just too wrong. To eavesdrop on friends was one thing, but to have dirty, even malevolent thoughts about them was an entirely different problem. And yet...

Every time she looked at him she felt her heart soar... but every time she saw the girl he was with, it was about as ethereal as hitting a brick wall. And every time he looked at that other person, she felt alone and isolated.

Perhaps she wasn't suited for him after all. She lacked perhaps everything he enjoyed in a woman. She could hardly cook but to satisfy her own—as she considered it—"unique" tastes. As perceptive as she was, she never really could come up with innovative solutions to another person's problem. Sure, she had _breasts_, but shoving aside the mere fact that using something like that would alienate herself from others, she knew he wasn't the type of person who went for a girl that would simply "put out".

But if he was, she probably would agree all the same. Oh! What difference would it make?! She was neither attractive, nor was she mature! She lacked two important qualities that he desired: Rukia Kuchiki, and Tatsuki Arisawa.

She was almost sobbing now. Orihime moved away from the couch, fearing that if she left any trace of her presence there, they would catch on. Even as she started to fall asleep, she could feel her angst grow into violent nightmares. Somehow, she wanted them to come. The question of her own guilt served as an ultimatum for suffering.

As Orihime closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep, her limbs writhed ever so slightly, her muscles tensing in sheer agony. Awake to bear witness to what she loathed most, and asleep to reflect on it for eternity in her dreams.

From the window, Ichigo and Tatsuki clambered back inside, as quiet as they had been going on. At the sound of Orihime's mumbling, they paused. "Did you hear that...?" Tatsuki raised an eyebrow. Ichigo appeared to be equally confounded.

"Sa... do..."


	19. Segment XVIII: Mild Sentiments

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

Graceful... 

Yes, that was the perfect word to use. High in the sky, far above any of the toxins of mankind, it soared. It was clean, innocent, unexposed... unfamiliar with the destructive ways of modern society. So simple, yet so intricate. Its floral pink color tinged poisonously with streams of white, red stripes dripping over its surface like the color of blood. At its epicenter a tiny dot, the essence of innocence. From it, four fibers extended out into four large folds, the surface area of which fluttered gently in the breeze.

Yes... It was a flower. A simple flower, with no goals, no purpose. It had none of life's delusions to hold it down. It was alone, and yet together, with countless other blossoms floating about in dreamlands that existed in places one could hardly imagine.

And just like that it shattered. From the skies high above, like a bullet fired from the heavens themselves, it pierced that beautiful innocence. Within milliseconds it fell away, a single raindrop striking the flower dead center. Perhaps it was wilting, or maybe even low on courage. But it split apart. The threads that united its petals in a glorious formation snapped. The center fell to the earth, absorbed into the water as an animal eats another.

It was strangely cannibalistic, she thought to herself. It wasn't the most pleasant sight to see. Then again, cannibalism probably wasn't a good scenario to describe it with.

The sound of Makoto's candy cracking between his teeth ripped through the deathly silence. Next to her, a few stray cats had quietly fallen asleep. Natsuki blinked strangely, absentmindedly petting them on the head. Of those that weren't feral, the stray animals in this area tended to be drawn towards her. Yet, much to his own chagrin, they never followed her if it involved getting in close proximity with her brother, Makoto.

"Pfft, not that I'd care," would be his words. She frowned slightly as the boy began playing with the chunks of hardened sugar between his lips. Her eyes were slowly hypnotized by the rhythmic pattern. She lost herself in thought again.

Makoto stared. At first, it was to make her look away. When that failed, he made a face to draw her attention elsewhere. And when_ that_ failed, he resorted to a self-imposed staring contest. This went on for a minute or so, neither one speaking nor moving. He was beginning to grow bored now. Sitting here in a pile of stolen safety blankets and watching the gray sky grow ever darker was hardly a way to spend a day.

Not to mention Orihime was gone. He grimaced slightly under his boyish glare. Though he never really _did_ like it whenever she was around, he wished she never had to leave. The only reason he didn't like her presence in the first place was due to that constant look in her eyes. He didn't like to see her so sad, especially when the reason was obvious.

But that wasn't his spot to fill. When he thought about it that way his fist balled up, and he felt the urge to just hit something. He did. Breaking his gaze he slammed the pavement with his knuckles. Blood spurted out momentarily. The damage was done, though light. This, at last, seemed to draw Natsuki's attention elsewhere. Though, rather than tend to his wound, she merely grunted as if surprised, looked away, and set it up so that he could no longer see her face.

Natsuki's face was bright red with embarrassment. Inside she was mentally scolding herself. _Beating_ herself seemed more appropriate. Oh! And she'd done it again. The one sign that she hadn't done what she was afraid she'd done was gone now. Her knack for adjectives and overly exerted effort in using them properly was indication she was nervous.

No, it wasn't entirely her fault. After all, given all of the things that have happened to them... If he did remember, would he still have the same feelings they once shared...? And even if he did feel the same way, what would they do about it now...?

The grin on Makoto's face told her that he still had his mind on Orihime. She frowned to herself, grimacing slightly at the idea of a boy such as himself advancing on a girl like that. He was so young, and Orihime so... distant. She was aware that he knew this, and yet he tried anyway. Still, discouraged by the age gap, he hadn't made any offensive pushes yet. It made her somewhat relieved as well. But this, also, was only for her personal benefit.

Makoto stood up, eyes alert, ears almost visibly perked. At his movements, the strays scattered. Probably just some debris crumbling to bits. The place was abandoned, after all, she thought to herself.

"Someone's here..."

Now she was alert. They weren't supposed to be here. If Makoto sensed another presence it probably wasn't a good thing. He was completely still, his eyes demanding a complete silence. Natsuki complied, just as unwilling to be caught here, in a place like this. The boy knelt down, analyzing his surroundings.

"They're in the building... three, maybe four of them."

She noticed. The surface of the roof was vibrating ever so subtly. "I hear voices," she pointed out a plumbing pipe. "If I remember right, there's a service corridor on the twelfth floor, where all of those cables were," he looked over the side of the building, searching both for indications of otherworldly presence and escape. When she asked him what it meant, he explained, "Since the entire building has been cemented shut other than services areas for demolition purposes, then the only places that voices could travel through the plumbing would be the basement and the twelfth floor..."

"...except... the basement is too far down right?" which meant that they had little chance to get away unnoticed...

* * *

"Well, I'm glad that's over with..." 

"You sound like you actually cared."

Ichigo looked away stubbornly, "Does a guy who care sound relieved to get away from a pain-in-the ass like that?" "You do..." Uryuu Ishida pushed his glasses up with that familiar "I'm better than you are" air. It annoyed Ichigo to no end when he did so. He turned to Uryuu with a sour face, "So why did you call me out to the middle of nowhere to take care of something like that...?"

Uryuu's face darkened somewhat, though he managed to squeeze out a smile. "She was a friend of mine," he said softly. Ichigo cracked his shoulder, unused to exiting and reentering his body due to disuse of such nature, "A friend, huh?" As they made their way down along the steps, Uryuu stopped at a barred up window.

"I won't question your affairs, but you really shouldn't make it obvious like that. You'll seem boastful if you act that way around other people."

A compliment in some ways, an insult in others, Uryuu was in no mood for either. Almost unexpectedly he fired a bolt up the stairs. There was a shriek as some unknown object fell from its pedestal, or from wherever it had originated. He turned to Ichigo impatiently, "And _you_ need to learn to control that spirit energy of yours." Ichigo could not help but to laugh,

"What, you mean you were suspicious of a couple of kids?"

"Kids...?" Uryuu's eyes betrayed his nonchalant tone of voice.

From the top of the stairs, a young boy stuck his head out from the corner, angrily declaring what could easily be a cry of war. "Well," Uryuu approached them slowly, leaving Ichigo to wait at the bottom of the stairs, "Isn't this unexpected?"


	20. Segment XIX: One Hundred and Six Degrees

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

"Man, he looks like a baby when he sleeps..." 

And to think that the little runt he was now carrying had attacked them an hour earlier. Ichigo was not one to care much. More concerning was the matter of their living status. These two were vagrants. Even now as the elder girl looked on, he knew they'd been alone for a long time. How he knew was inexplicable. It was intuition, he supposed. _Man's intuition_, he mused.

Eventually he could take no more of it. He gave Ishida a mindful nudge, urging him to silence his comments. The man glanced back at the girl, who seemed somewhat disturbed. Ichigo nodded affirmatively, sighing out of exasperation. If it meant anything, his obvious cough noted his continually wary presence. Their eyes continued the conversation that their mouths could not.

"You sensed it too?"

Ichigo made no reply.

"Even after all this time you're still this perceptive?"

"Well I have _you_ to thank for that. It's not my fault if you can't keep up."

"And to think you said you were rusty..."

Friendly banter like this was rare, but at times, necessary to calm the nerves. He was sure that _she_ had sensed it as well. _How is this kid involved with Inoue?_ From the moment that he had launched his fists forward, this "Makoto" wrought deeply of Orihime Inoue's spiritual "scent." At the thought he had to laugh, drawing the attention of the elder girl.

Now that he thought of it, she seemed to be rather attached to the youth. She eyed him, not out of suspicion or malice, but of curiosity. She had spiritual powers, and it was strong enough for him to see if he simply strained his eyes somewhat.

As thought drew on to thought he eventually found himself thinking of Tatsuki again. Uryuu seemed to notice. His eyes bespoke a withdrawn nature, not much different from his aura in the past. That very same aura rivaled his own: closed off, mature, but lacking.

"Still haven't told them, I see."

"Leave me alone!"

Ichigo turned his gaze away, a hopeless attempt and silencing Uryuu's visual communication. Far from what he had hoped for the thing simply switched to verbal mode, "Do you at least know what to say to them?"

He did.

"I just have to tell them what's happened, that's all."

"You make it sound so simple..."

"Haah..." his temple was beginning to throb. "Look Uryuu," he stopped and faced the man, completely serious. As he tried to speak, he found the words would not come out. Uryuu seemed to understand. He nodded and extended his arms outwards, taking the boy into his arms.

"You explain everything to Inoue. If I managed to sense them, I'm sure she has as well."

"Just_go_!" his friend shouldered the lump further, "You worry too much."

* * *

"Hufagh!" 

She flew backwards, partially from the sheer force of the blow, partially from the sheer effort in her attempted dodge. No chance for a break. Just like that she was forced to roll and push out her legs, effectively repelling another strike. Instantly she found herself facing a large fist. Without waiting to judge her situation she grabbed it with her left hand, using its inertia as an anchor to propel herself straight onto the wall where she spent a split second of her opening to breath.

Diving past a mighty kick she launched three blows, one after the other, straight into his back. The hulking figure did no so much as budge from them, but instead used the kinetic energy to spin backwards with his right foot. Contact! As it landed upon her cheek, she let the energy twirl her around, taking this rare opportunity to sink a four-limbed strike into her enemy.

Fist! Fist! Kick! Jump! Knee! She was away again, cornered back into defense. She narrowly avoided being pushed into a physical corner, again relying on fancy footwork while patiently waiting for another opening.

And just like that his opponent stumbled. She chuckled, not waiting for him to realize she'd led him into a trap. Her knee lodged itself into his chest mercilessly, her right hand grasping his convulsing left, twisting it up and immobilizing him. In no mood to wait for him to break free, she lifted him up into the air, darting backwards and firing a final dual-legged kick into his rump, falling to the ground in a messy heap as her opponent rolled away.

Clapping...

Somehow she'd done it. Gasping for air, she suddenly realized how asphyxiated she was. The bright lights of the dojo were almost like heat lamps. And yet the breeze from the open door felt like arctic water. She was on the verge of passing out. In fact, she couldn't even feel the hands of her classmates as they lifted her up.

"Damn! And I mean _god damn_!"

"You're_sure_ to get kudos for that amazing finish!"

She felt saliva dribbling down her lip. Her surroundings were steadily becoming clearer. In truth, it had been a last-ditch thing. She hadn't even decided to do it, and yet somehow she had. And it had worked too. There was a unique notch in the matting that she'd noticed when she'd been launched backwards. She, who was focused on speed and evasion, would never find something so obtrusive. But for a power fighter, such as her opponent, in which stance and positional control were everything, the slightest shift in the ground had disrupted his stance and interrupted his manipulating of physical energy.

Damn she was hazy. To come up with all of that just after a major win... She was finally able to control the positioning of her own gaze, to which she quickly directed to the instructors, who appeared to be just as appalled as the entire crowd was. Not that one could call it a crowd. A gathering maybe, more like a lonely bunching.

Most likely, this Kagurazaka fellow was unconscious. The direction she pushed him into was straight into the metal walling. Even for a power fighter, it was a lot to deal with. But he would suffer no more than a minor head wound. Fights like this were usually not without bloodshed anyway.

Tatsuki Arisawa had just come back from the verge of death. Or so she felt liked calling it. It was more epic that way.

She felt a warm hand slide onto her neck, easing down onto her back and squeezing her in her sweet spot. She squealed out of surprise, crying, "Ichigo!" Tufts of thick orange hair obscured her vision. She felt something soft press against her forehead. "Hey, cmon!" she struggled. He merely laughed, massaging her gently, easing her back into the chair her friends had dropped her on.

Even as she moaned softly, she knew the reason he'd come. Even as he greeted the others with a smile, his eyes reflected what his expression did not. Soon, very soon, she would be asking Isshin Kurosaki for his approval.

He managed to give her a reassuring smile. She scoffed. It was a bad habit of hers. To assure herself, or simply to test her tired throat, she mumbled silently to herself, "I have to stop taking Ichigo for granted..." It easier said than done...


	21. Segment XX: Bitter More So

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

"So you haven't seen him at all?"

Orihime did her best to smile, "No, not since the plaza." Karin Kurosaki gave her twin Yuzu and odd glance. They bowed respectfully, thanking her. "If you see him," Yuzu murmured reticently, "please be sure to give us a call." Again, Orihime did her best to smile. Then they shut the door behind them, checking a list that was sure to contain the addresses of everyone Ichigo knew, as far as his family had been capable of ascertaining.

She waited for their voices to fade away before approaching her phone. She stared at it for several seconds, before picking it up and dialing a number. She let it ring four times before setting it down. Tatsuki's voice message would be the one Orihime had recorded for her during her last birthday, a much happier time. She didn't want to be pulled back there again.

"Ichigo," she muttered, squeezing her right breast as if to press away a sharp pain. Her legs buckled together and she, unable to stand, knelt down and rested her head upon the cool counter. Its temperature was soothing. Tonight would be another restless night of bad dreams, just like every night was these days.

"Well, marking off Orihime-san and Sado-san, both who haven't seen Ichigo since the plaza..." Yuzu checked off the names, "And Ishida-san, who wouldn't answer his door, that leaves..." She looked up at Karin, who was doing her best to ignore what would come next.

"Arisawa-san..."

"I doubt he'd be—"

"—What makes you so sure?!"

Yuzu sounded insane. Karin herself _would have preferred_ Ichigo's blotted attendance over his complete absence. She hadn't meant to drive him out of the house the way she had. In fact, she never even expected him to react as volatilely as he had. It seemed to be driving their family on edge. She was sure her father knew where Ichigo was, not to mention the fact that she had a few hunches herself.

Her mind flew back to their conversation two days prior. Even thought she had the strong inclination to go after him, Isshin had restrained her. "Just let him come back on his own," he'd said, serious for once, as if he expected Ichigo to come back. He would, she knew. Their father had specifically instructed them to be back before nine. It was now eight-thirty. Besides, even if she decided to look up Tatsuki Arisawa, she doubted they would be home in time, which would be a violation of a rule set up in earnest.

However, Yuzu was only mildly aware of how reliable Ichigo could be. She still retained the old, unstable one in her mind. And rightly so, she took care of him as if he were still several years younger, while she had aged to her current state now.

It was almost as if she was in love, and not in a sisterly way. But then, that was Yuzu's way of caring for Ichigo, who was perhaps more of a father to her than Isshin ever had been. Not to take any credit away from their real father, but it was to a hard-eared Ichigo to whom he relayed her emotions to. Even if he had no actual concern, he did take time to listen, as rare the time he had for that.

For now, they ought to be getting home. It was getting to be late, and soon dad would be worried. However, as she looked up, she noticed Yuzu gone. She looked around. The streets were empty but for an old woman who was calling her dog. Karin growled angrily, darting off into the streets, "Damn that girl!" Yuzu hadn't even stolen the address from her. Karin knew her sister would get lost. She had to find her quickly before it was too late. It would also take too long to notify the authorities. Perfect timing, she thought, rolling her eyes.

* * *

"Mama?" 

"Hmm...?" Orihime opened her eyes suddenly, as if awakening from a very bad dream. Natsuki was silent, looking her in the eyes. "Why don't you go and make some tea for your mom?" Uryuu suggested quietly. From beneath the table he felt Orihime take his hand.

The young girl complied, staring at Uryuu for a long time before vanishing into the kitchen. "You shouldn't do that," he attempted to free his hand, finding that she gripped it tighter, "It's that bad?" Orihime nodded quietly, swallowing a sob. He could see the lump forming in her throat.

"You won't tell anyone right...?" her eyes were pleading. It gave him a sense of déjà vu. The bad kind... This wasn't the first time she'd looked upon him with a sense of desperation. Orihime gave his palm an all too familiar squeeze, and let out an all too familiar whimper, as she rested her all too familiar head in an all too familiar position on his chest. "Please," she begged, "don't tell the authorities about my children..."

And then came that all too familiar pang. "Orihime," he mumbled quietly, "don't..." But he found he could not say it. He wanted her to press against him. Frankly, he enjoyed it when she sought comfort from him.

"What...?" she asked.

Uryuu grunted, struggling against himself. To this, Orihime pulled away. Natsuki walked into the room, quiet and focused, trying to avoid looking at Uryuu. She set down a platter of two tea cups. Orihime again, did her best to smile. "Thank you," she hugged Natsuki tightly, "Why don't you watch over Makoto for awhile.

Rather formally she bowed, hurrying back into the kitchen and quickly disappearing. "She seems not to like me very much," Uryuu stood up, tea in hand. Orihime laughed, this time in earnest. It was a bitter laugh, a laugh that held nothing of happiness inside, "Shall we go outside?"

He nodded in mournful assent. Desperation was a powerful fiend, and a bad ally to have...

"How long has it been since I felt you against me...?"

Frozen.

He felt a mad desire to look her in the eyes, and yet a frightened urgency to run out of the house. A pair of hands crept around his sides. His lungs were shaking. "H-Hime...!" he grunted...


	22. Segment XXI: Discrepancy

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

"Whoa..." 

Tatsuki shuddered. Ichigo stopped before the door, eyes closed in silent meditation. She looked up, nervous perhaps, and scanned the skies,

"Did you feel that?"

Funny... standing here at about nine in the evening, outside of his house and dressed like a total stranger, he felt nothing. He tried his best to instill some sort of emotion. His best bet was fear. That didn't work... Okay, anger. Nope, not that either... Even looking at Tatsuki, staring at her body and imagining their moments together could not evoke the slightest bit of affection.

Dead, that was how he felt. Completely dead. And he knew how it felt to be dead. It wasn't exactly unpleasant... It just wasn't really enjoyable. One got bored being dead. And here was Tatsuki, alive and feeling. He frowned a little bit,

"Are you sure you're ready to talk to my family?"

She blinked, "What, getting cold feet at the last minute?"

Ichigo's eyes emitted a flood of compassion over her. She could feel it wash over her. "Hey now," she reached out and stroked his face gently. He chuckled, embracing her, "You know that's not what I meant..." He wrapped his finger around hers, around the ring, smiling. Tatsuki blushed, realizing she had never taken it off.

"Should I put it on the necklace again?" she asked innocently. He shook his head, "No... I want it there." "Won't your father notice?" was her reply. He shook his head, pulling her to his chest. They were breathless for a moment. In the gap that followed there was melted passion.

The door began to open. Instinctively the two separated. An all too familiar mug peered through from the door. The eyes, momentarily bright, darkened as it fell upon Ichigo and, accordingly, Tatsuki. "Oh," were Isshin's mildly disappointed words, "It's you two..." Ichigo felt a vein throb in his forehead, "Who were you expecting?" Again, his father's face lit up with a smile, "Oh, don't worry about it! Come on it and introduce me!" Tatsuki gasped slightly as he openly took her wrist, and the two vanished behind the door.

* * *

Slam! The vibrations from the door rocked his quaint little home. Sado stood in the door, wobbling from side to side as if about to collapse at any moment. The answering machine beeped repeatedly, indicating there was a new message. He synced his sways with its metronomic ding. 

There was a soft thud as he fell upon his couch. Skin turned red along both shins, which had slammed against the couch's frame as he'd fallen. He reached for one of the terminal phones on the living room table, weakly holding it over his sweaty face. It beeped as he played the message through the speaker. As the caller ID flashed along the screen he sat up slowly, looking out the window.

"Orihime..."

_ Umm... _

Her tinny voice fell short of confidence on the speaker. For a long time, the only sound he could hear was mild static and silence. It took an eternity. Or... perhaps it only felt that way. The duration of the message was only seven seconds. _ ...oh! N— _ The phone beeped, signaling that the message had ended. A drop slid down his cheekbone, along his neck and onto the led display.

He could almost taste the salt in his perspiration. Orihime had called... she'd called _him_ of all people. Standing up again, he approached the kitchen counter and picked up a small pitcher. It was china, decoratively painted with Chinese Hanzi and Japanese Kanji mixing together like some toxic dream. It smelled stale, having been there for some time. He swallowed the bitter liquid, his eyes alighting somewhat with the fire in his throat. It spread to his chest and intoxicated him.

Yes... sweet sake. No matter how old, its effect was the same.

* * *

"This is the place but," she looked left and right, seeing nothing in the bright light cast by the street lamps, "I don't see Yuzu anywhere..." So this was Tatsuki Arisawa's house. The lights were off, and it looked like nobody had been home for most of the day. It was a humble apartment style dwelling. There really wasn't anything unique about it. Yet... 

"So... this is the house of the girl he's been dating..."

She could only vaguely call up Tatsuki's appearance in her mind. It looked like someone took care of the lawn. The few exotic flowers that sat in pots seemed to be growing nicely. The window was open, the plain curtains fluttering in the gentle evening breeze. Karin shivered. It was getting cold. Hopefully Yuzu had come to her senses and returned home, or at least found a warm place to stay. Assuming that the latter was the case, she would call dad and would be home in no time.

Orihime's house was too far from where she was now. And hell if she knew where she was now. She already knew that to go back to Orihime's house just to find her way home was too far. So she was stuck...

Seemingly from the skies above, something warm enclosed upon her shoulders. A familiar scent filled her nostrils. She had to consciously keep her mind calm to avoid blushing further. Sado Yasutora's heavy leather jacket rested awkwardly over her body. Behind, Sado himself stood, chuckling in a brief reverie of thought. Before she could stop herself, she made about-face, crying his name in an amalgam of shock, surprise, and joy.

"So you came to check on little Ichigo?" he raised a few strands of hair from his eyes. Karin nodded slowly, removing the jacket, but finding his firm hand clasping it to her neck. "Err, you know, you really don't have to—" she was going to return his jacket, but fell short of words as he ruffled her hair. Frankly it was more like a playful pet. "It looks like she isn't home," he confirmed, turning towards the way Karin had originally come running, "so shall we get going?"

To this, the only reply she could make to Sado's simple comment was, "I'm not a dog you know!" The idea seemed to amuse him somewhat. He flashed her an unusually silly smile, exposing both of his eyes in a sudden breeze. His deep voice rumbled through her ears like nectar, "But you're cute like a dog. I like you too." Karin blushed, hurrying after him, but defiantly turning from his cheerful stare. "Y-yeah... well—"

_—Well nothing_, she thought to herself, smiling warmly on the inside, _So this is what love feels like..._ It was a pleasant afterthought. She decided to hold on to it for a little longer.

* * *

"Different..." 

"...?"

Orihime pressed her body against a thin, trembling frame, eyes cast downward, lips pursed in silent contemplating. Ishida Uryuu no longer felt desire. He no longer felt his personal drive pushing him forward in his lust. But it was still there. Perhaps it was depression that made him this way. The sadness of knowing he could never have something... it tasted bitter, but was addictive. Mental masochism? Possibly...

He felt her lips tentatively feel his. For a full second he had the delusion that she was actually kissing him. But no... she wasn't kissing Ishida Uryuu... she was kissing somebody else. "Yeah... just different..."

He wasn't sure if he was speaking it or thinking it, but he knew Orihime was probably thinking the exact same. She whispered gently in his ear, almost as if to coax him onward, "You're just so... different..."

Different... huh... so... he was just... just... different... huh... so...


	23. Segment XXII: A Map For Lost

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

Hot... That was how she felt right now... Sticky... That was how she felt right now... Images of Ichigo filled her mind like some horrible dream. His body... his face... his eyes... his scent... She had no idea why she was thinking of such things. As she did so she felt her heart pound. It felt so suddenly real, like she'd never felt her own heartbeat before. _No_, she tried to tell herself,_ this is wrong... This isn't me!_ Even as she did so, she began to slowly recover. 

In a moment of asphyxia, she had collapsed on the pavement. Yuzu Kurosaki now sat on that spot of pavement, eyes to the sky, cold sweat threatening to freeze her to death. _Hang on... wait...!_ She clutched desperately at the dissolving threads of memory. Her fingers wrapped around the essence of image, trying urgently to preserve those split-second manifestations. What were they...? She felt very, _very_ sick...

"W-what was I doing again?" she asked herself hazily, picking herself up off of the ground. Her palm was bleeding where she'd caught her fall, "Oh... that's right. I ran off..." Gradually her blurry vision settled. "Where am I?" Yuzu looked about her. Karin was nowhere to be seen. But she was familiar with her surroundings. The frigid air made her shudder from the cold. Right... when she'd gone too far she'd retraced her steps, leading her back to Orihime's house. She couldn't go home now... it wasn't safe in her current state. Not to mention she was still wobbly from her fainting spell.

She was on the wrong block, but Orihime's house wasn't too far from where she was. In fact, she could see the fence from where she stood. The lights were still on, so someone was indeed home. She had to find shelter from the wind. If she didn't she would catch a cold or worse. Even as she ran, in the back of her mind, Ichigo still occupied her mind. She hoped he was safe...

* * *

"You know that..." 

"..."

Of course she didn't care. He knew she wouldn't care. It probably hurt too much for her to care.

"...I won't stop you..."

"..."

Between each deep kiss and the gentle caressing that followed, he uttered each phrase like an invitation. Orihime seemed not to hear. Or rather, she didn't want to hear. So she didn't hear. She wasn't holding Ishida Uryuu, her friend and former ally on the front line... She was holding her image of what she held dear.

"That's all I'll ever be..." he continued, pulling her closer as she pressed her tongue forward again, "Just an image, Hime-chan..." She groaned loudly, as if telling him to shut up. Ichigo's musk filled her nostrils. Ichigo's hands grasped her breast tightly. Ichigo's eyes looked into hers. Ichigo's eyes were sad... "Shut up..." she whispered. She knew Uryuu'd never said anything. But it made her feel less guilty about exploiting him when she said things like this.

This was Orihime in the dark... this was her hollow... When she was alone, this was what she was: a twisted, perverted lecher who lusted after a single man, and would use any means to satiate herself on his basis. Forget unrequited love. Throw away everything you knew about love. It was that damn easy to figure her out. If simulated love was anything, then it was better than nothing at all.

So screw the romantics that preached to you about roses and thorns. It wasn't romance as far as she was concerned. It was just easier to say that she wanted a chance to touch Ichigo in ways she had yet to. And there was no logical reasoning behind it. It was fun, and it felt good. Why the hell not right...? Sex felt good.

But people like that don't feel pain... Again, her soul tried to reach out to her. But it was her soul baring itself to some idol of Ichigo. Ironic wasn't it? Irony? Oh, this Iron Irony.

Jealousy... Does a thief regret his crime the moment he steals something? Does a killer regret killing someone at the moment he draws blood? Would she regret stealing from Uryuu what he no longer had? She used to tell herself that it was Ishida who had taken advantage of her, but it wasn't true. _I'm the thief... I'm the killer..._ Her thoughts disconsolately formed and vanished in her mind. Was she even thinking? It was like some meta-awareness...

"Inoue-san..."

"M-mama...!"

It was so bright. She could hardly make out the images of Natsuki and another in the porch light. "Y-Yuzu! Natsuki!" she nearly fell to her knees. Uryuu turned away, his expression hard and unforgiving. Yuzu looked away, face crimson and hands trembling...

She'd seen herself for a moment. It was a grown up version of herself. Standing right where the two had been holding each other, she'd been on the reverse end. At the person pressing against her body had been—

"Ichigo said he wanted to meet me later," Uryuu grunted. It was a poor excuse but the only one he could come up with. For the matter he wasn't supposed to make any excuses at all. Orihime stood there, crestfallen. Was that guilt in her eyes? She looked to him, as if crying, not about their twisted affair but...

He was already gone. No sense in meditating on it if there were no ears to hear it... She wouldn't hear it anyway. It was far too late for words, he felt. And there was no point in telling her the truth. No doubt she knew it anyway. Behind him, an awkward silence lay dying in the cold wind. It was none of his concern now... Just leave like the heartless bastard he was.

The young boy burst forth from the door, breaking the silence. The girl, Natsuki cried out his name. Makoto was it? He watched the boy glare angrily at him, taking in his death stare. Then, without allowing his sister to stop him, he took off down another part of the street, Natsuki chasing after him. Her hysterical cries left Orihime and Yuzu alone on the porch...

None of his concern...

"Christ this thing is tight..."

"If ya don't like it then don't go yappin' to me about it."

"Urgh, forget it."

* * *

Her hair ruffled in the breeze. "Hmm..." she inhaled the air. It had been a long time since she'd felt like this. These familiar aromas. She could envision the shopping arcades and movie houses all too well. It was like she'd never even left. It looked like a lot has changed since she was last here. She couldn't even figure out where she was right now. Well, no time like the present to explore... 


	24. Segment XXIII: Tying the Knot

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

"I thought you were tired." 

She was. In fact, Karin Kurosaki felt sore all over. And yet somehow she felt invigorated. He scoffed, chuckling at her mischievous grin as she replied, "You're the one who felt like stopping." Somehow sitting on a park bench and watching her scale the playground structure was relaxing. Being able to rest here and talk was entertaining. There was a hidden fantasy about it.

As the same time his vision had something else. Orihime wasn't next to him in real life. And Karin wasn't his child. But if he could have a child, he'd want it to be a girl. And Orihime would name her. He figured it would be a strange name, but most likely a name he'd like. Not because it was Orihime who picked the name, but simply because it would be his child.

Still, for the moment the dream was enough. And sitting here on a park bench while he watched his dream child scale the playground structure was fulfilling. That was what his grandfather would have wished for. He could feel the old man whispering to him from his arm.

Alas, if only Orihime were actually here. He was willing to bet she would be on the swing. The last time they'd been to a park together, the only time they'd been to a park together, he pushed her while they waited for Ichigo to show up. Hmm... It did seem he was right in his conclusion. Stranger still was the fact that Tatsuki seemed to be just as infatuated with him as he was her. No doubt _any_ girl Ichigo had affections for would be deep affection.

_I have to give you credit Ichigo. I really envy you, you know that?_ Karin stood before him, hand outstretched. He took it gratefully and strolled with her. He had two beautiful sisters, a caring, if intrusive father, a girl to love and to be loved by and... Orihime. Beneath all of the praise and warmth he still felt cold and jealous inside.

But then, who wouldn't... right?

Sado Yasutora failed to notice Karin's lustful eyes, lost in his own lustful thoughts.

* * *

If she had any alcohol in her home it would most likely be in her stomach right now, Orihime thought bitterly. Yuzu was silent, just grateful for the fact that Orihime had provided her with clean linens. But the vision she'd had on the porch still haunted her mind. It wasn't something she wanted to talk about with Orihime, but just looking at her she had strange flashbacks. Somehow she imagined her stay here to be a little more, what was the word, _warm_? Yuzu swallowed the word with an uncannily heavy conscience. 

"Ichigo..."

Yuzu looked up. Orihime sounded terrible. She croaked the name again, asking her if he was doing okay. Guilt was written all over her face. For what reason, Yuzu didn't know, nor did she desire to find out. And yet it was as if Orihime was just dying to tell somebody. "He hasn't been home much," she whispered apprehensively.

_Feh_, at least the girl was honest. Orihime took another sip of her tea. It tasted like sand, and yet she wanted more. The phone began to ring. Ichigo's sister got out of her chair to check the name of the caller. As she reached to the handle, Orihime muttered softly,

"Don't pick it up... I don't want to talk to him right now."

On the display it read: Sado Yasutora. Hesitantly, Yuzu pulled her hand away and waited for the message to beep. Seven rings passed, seven long moments... As her answering machine switched on Orihime took another sip of her tea.

_ I'm going to stop by later... _

Yuzu jumped at the sound of Orihime's fist slamming on the table. She bit her lip hatefully, not at Sado, nor at Yuzu, but at herself. Nothing made sense anymore. She could feel her senses literally slipping away. Why did he care so much? She observed Yuzu as the girl retreated into the shadows of the living room. Slowly, her fingers traced back to a familiar crevice. Sweet, sweet, vicious cycle...

* * *

"Sado?" 

"Ch-Chad!"

"Karin!"

Isshin Kurosaki nearly leaped off of the couch, clutching his daughter to his chest and squeezing her tightly. As the two fought, Sado dusted himself off, bowing respectfully to Ichigo and Tatsuki. Though Tatsuki nodded politely, Ichigo stood up offensively. No words were spoken, but Tatsuki sensed that in the fourteen second duration of a father-daughter battle, an hour's worth of conversation traversed the eyes of her two schoolmates.

The end result was that Ichigo lowered his fists, which had tightened and raised themselves slightly. Sighing irately, he walked through the open door and shut it behind him. Sado watched as he approached the edge of the fence, hands in his pockets, eyes set skyward.

"I'm guessing you pretty much know everything then...?"

He looked down at Tatsuki, who was nervously twiddling her thumbs. Karin, finally free of her battered father, looked up and down between them. "So you knew all along then?" she asked.

"I had my doubts," he admitted, peering through the window to watch as Ichigo sorted his own thoughts, "but it isn't as though I have anything against it so..." To this Tatsuki seemed to smile, while Karin sighed as if finally satisfied. In a similar manner, Sado stepped outside. As they began conversing, Karin sat on the chair opposite Tatsuki's couch. Her eyes narrowed slightly, forcing Tatsuki to laugh.

After several moments, Karin snickered. Then she joined in Tatsuki's laughter. "You and Ichigo really _are_ sisters aren't you?" Tatsuki wiped a happy tear from her eye. Karin simply grinned, "Which part gave it away? My chin or the evil death glare?" "I think," Tatsuki relaxed, still laughing, "it was the way your father gave you a hug."

* * *

"They seem to be enjoying themselves..." 

Ichigo spoke aloud, pretending not to notice Sado behind him. "Don't assume this cuts all of the loose ends, Ichigo," Sado warned. "And since when did you take charge of my affairs," he retorted recalcitrantly.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, _Ichigo_."

"_Frankly_ I don't. Why don't you _explain it_ to me? I'd _love_ to hear it."

"..." Sado was at a momentary loss for words. This guy... he really hadn't changed much over the years. But it wasn't funny either. Not now... not now that he... "So what about when she inevitably finds out?" he murmured.

"Hmm," Ichigo resumed his quiet meditation, "You seem to already have an answer. Am I right?"

"At the very least, tell her before she finds concrete proof on her own."

"Write me a speech then, lover boy..."

"It's not for me to say, Ichigo..."

"Then just don't say anything!"

"..." again, Sado was at a loss for words. Clearly, Ichigo already had something in mind. He highly doubted it was a sound plan but, "If that's what you want, then fine..." He started off, heeding little attention to Ichigo's grunt of protest. "And just where do you think you're going?"

"Don't worry... You'll be the one to write your own speech, Ichigo. I won't interfere..."

It was a bitter sentiment, and a bad way to tie a knot...


	25. Segment XXIV: The End

--Oh no! There's no more to read!--

Well, that was the end of the first episode of Melancholy. I know that a lot of you will be a little shaken by these sudden changes, however I assure you that it's definitely a good change. I will still be correcting any of the errors I leave, but essentially this story is finished. The next episode is going to be written in the same style as the first, and the intended title is "Melancholy: Autumn Daydream". Yup, you guessed it, it's going by the seasons.

* * *

"What is your projected course with Project Melancholy?" 

I intend to proceed in this episode fashion, in a similar that the Star Wars series did. In the future I plan on five episodes, though this is subject to change. The intended names for the last three are still undergoing work, however, "Winter Sonata" and "Summer Adulthood" are the predicted terms. I do not, unfortunately, have a name for Spring. I'm taking in any suggestions you the readers may have, so feel free to send some in. Please make sure they are appropriate and well thought-out. :D

* * *

"Why did you decide to base it off of 'Just Barely'?" 

It was coincidence really. I just happened on the story. In fact, I'm thinking of using a lot of Cal Reflector's concepts in the stories to come.

* * *

"A few of the characters are somewhat OOC. Care to explain?" 

While I admit that some of the characters are different, they are in no way OOC. I have made room for personal growth based on the events of the original series. I must admit, however, that I'm making a strong effort to tone down Isshin Kurosaki's character by miles.

* * *

"There are a lot of holes in the story where information is implied. How are we expected to react?" 

A few of you have commented on this. These aren't really plotholes, but yes, they are gaps. The reason behind this is that I simply could not find a way to fill in that information. It was just more appropriate to let the reader conclude for him or herself.

* * *

"Everyone is so serious. What's up with that?" 

The theme of Melancholy comes from a Korean Drama known in America as "Winter Sonata". Even so, this is a serious romance fiction after all.

* * *

"What is your reasoning behind the pairings? Most of them are non-canon." 

To be blunt, I never was the type to copy everyone else. However, the concept of my romance doesn't work with any other pairing. I also know that some of you are somewhat disturbed by the incestual implication between Yuzu Kurosaki and her elder brother Ichigo. Yes, it's true, I intend to have Yuzu be in love with her brother. The reason behind this is because some of you asked me to have Yuzu star a larger role. However, to avoid massing too many main characters, I limited her romance to an incestual desire for her brother. It would simply be too complicated if I added more for Yuzu's sake.

Also, I know that the Sado and Orihime pairing is very unorthodox, however, in the series, Orihime seems to be a match for everyone, so in my version, I decided to portray her darker side, using this multi-match to appeal to that very nature. And, no, Orihime has no romantic feelings for Uryuu Ishida.

I find it noteworthy to know that Uryuu is going to be the only person who winds up alone at the end.

* * *

"We'd like to know more about Makoto and Natsuki." 

As some of you may have figured out, they aren't actually blood-related. I'm not able to reveal their stories now, but I drew off of Love Hina for this inspiration. Makoto and Natsuki used to be in love before they lost their memories, however, both have different memories of their past.

Ma-kun and Na-chan are tools for motivation. They will play a very large role in the later episodes.

* * *

"Will Rukia be making an appearance in Melancholy?" 

Yes, however she won't be playing a noticeable role until the fourth and/or fifth episode.

* * *

"You make references to Soul Society and soul reaping many times. What role will they play in this fiction?" 

A large one, to be frank. In fact, a lot of the old characters will be involved later in the series. There will even be Hollow Battles.

* * *

"Do you have anything else you would like to tell us?" 

Well, here's something a few may jump on. Tatsuki's a soul reaper.

Also, Ichigo's soul reaper form has been modified.

* * *

For those of you who actually read all of this, I'm thankful and surprised that you took the trouble. I'm glad you've stuck with me thus far, and hope you will enjoy the rest of Project Melancholy! 

--'till then--


End file.
